


Grounded

by Flyorine



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flyorine/pseuds/Flyorine
Summary: Post-Resolution. Team TARDIS is back together, traveling through all of space and time. But what happens when something goes wrong with the ship, leaving three humans and a Time Lord stranded on a foreign planet halfway across the universe?





	1. Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Back with a new story! The M rating is only because I want to leave myself some freedom with chapter 2, I might end up changing it. It's only a two shot for now, I hope everyone likes the first part :-).

Weeks later, Yaz would wonder if the TARDIS wasn't trying to warn them, in her own unique way. In a matter of hours, the ship's apparently unlimited supply of hot water ran out in the middle of her shower, the kettle exploded while Graham was trying to make tea, and his bedroom door slammed shut on Ryan's fingers when he tried to yank it opened. Even the controls seemed to be moving away from the Doctor's reach, forcing the Time Lord to run back and forth around the console every time she wanted to activate a lever.

The TARDIS has been in a foul mood for almost a full week before her four passengers gather around in the control room, staring at the central column in different stages of disarray. 

"I get it, you're cross." The Doctor interrupts the tense silence, pacing up and down the stairs. "But do you have to take it out on us?" 

"I vote no." Ryan answers, doubtfully observing his granddad's attempt at wrapping a bandage around his swollen fingers. "I'm fine, Graham." 

"What's wrong with her though?" Yaz asks, watching both the Doctor's nervous wandering and Graham's poor medical skills from her spot, leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded in front of her.

"I don't know. I've checked the fuel level, the Artron energy carburetor, every single subsystems - which took a while, she has 972. I even did basic maintenance last night." The Time Lord sighs. "Still sulking." 

"Maybe you've made it cross with all your repairs." Graham suggests, handing the rest of the bandages to Ryan who takes over the taping job on his own fingers.

"She's not an it, Graham." The Doctor snaps, glaring at him. "And I know how to work on my ship, thank you very much. Maybe you've made her cross by calling her a thing too often." 

"Now what? Can you force her to land?" Ryan interrupts, drawing another sigh out of the alien. He's right, they've already been drifting into the time vortex for three Earth days, the TARDIS derailing her every attempt at landing. 

"I could, but I'm not sure..." The blond trails off, picking up her sentence with a worried glance over the console. "I don't want to hurt her." 

"Well, we can wait. Maybe she just needs time." Yaz shrugs.

"She's getting worse. I need to sort this out and I've tried everything I could from here."

"Is there a TARDIS’ repair shop? Surely someone can help." Graham says. 

"It's where I found her. In a repair shop." The Doctor grins.

"You bought a broken TARDIS?" 

"Eh. Didn't exactly buy her." 

"What?"

"If you stole a time ship, I don't want to hear about it." Yaz cuts into the conversation, giving her best police officer stare to the Time Lord. 

"Sorry, Graham. Don't want to get arrested." She comes to a stop next to the younger woman, resting her back against the same wall before lowering her voice. "You wouldn't, right?"

"Maybe. Don't try me." Yaz answers, leaning in to bump their shoulders together. She ends up clutching the Doctor's elbow when the TARDIS hits a sudden drop, sending both Ryan and Graham flying. They land against the floor with a loud thud and identical groans, while Yaz is only kept upright by the grip the Doctor manages to get around her waist. 

"Everyone alright? Boys?" She glances at the two men slowly helping each other off the floor, before bringing her attention back to the younger woman. "Yaz?" 

"I'm fine. Nice catch." She replies, clearing her throat. It's a struggle to focus on anything other than the slender arms wrapped around her. Her head falls against the taller woman's shoulder, and she allows herself a few seconds to catch her breath in the loose hug. She's surprised to find that the Doctor smells vaguely of sugar with just a hint of mint, not unlike those chocolate biscuits the old lady living next door used to share with the neighborhood's children in Sheffield. Mixed with the few droplets of mechanic oil clinging to the blond's shirt, it creates a combination that should be odd but is somehow completely fitting. Yaz has to will herself to take a step back - this crush is really getting out of control - and to put a more reasonable distance between them. 

"I didn't catch anyth... Oh, you mean you?" Yaz's pointed look is her only answer, and the Time Lord shrugs it off. "Don't worry about it. There's a planet in the Nildor galaxy where it's a popular dance move. The dive-and-catch, they call it. Bit dangerous, but amazing to watch. I wonder if I'm any good at dancing this time ar..." She trails off when she notices the humans' impatient eyes turning towards her, awkwardly clearing her throat. "Right." 

The Doctor strides closer to the console, jumping over the steps. "Alright, you. It's enough. We're landing, now." The edge in the alien's voice doesn't affect the ship that keeps on humming in a slightly higher pitch than usual. The strange tone was the first symptom that caught the Doctor's attention a few days earlier, and it only aggravates the woman's exasperation.

Squaring her shoulders, the Time Lord slides near the dematerialization lever, her fingers gripping the handle tightly before the TARDIS decides to move it away. "Hang onto something, fam. Landing might be a little bumpy."

Graham, Ryan and Yaz have all figured out that "A little bumpy" is Doctor for "Find something solid, don't let go and hope for the best", and they quickly move towards the stairs' railings. They slide to the ground, leaning against each other with Graham stuck in the middle. The older man gives a thumbs up, and the Doctor nods at him, before bringing the lever down and sending the ship into a violent tumble. 

"Wha..." The Doctor's complain is cut short when she slips, loses her balance and falls heavily on the edge of the upper stair. The impact sends a wave of pain through her upper body, and she feels her ribs protest as gravity drags her to the lowest level of the control room. "If that's broken, I won't be doing maintenance for a very long time." She mumbles through gritted teeth, trying to find purchase as she slides across the floor along with the TARDIS' jerky movements. 

In a last effort, she manages to wrap her legs around one of the column and blinks quickly, trying to recover a sense of balance as the ship keeps wavering. She trails her fingers across her ribs, pushing gently against the skin and hissing at the burst of pain. She has barely decided that nothing is broken, before Yaz's concerned voice snaps her out of her self examination.

"Doctor?" The Time Lord looks around, realizing that her resting spot is on the opposite side of the control room. 

"I'm fine." 

"Ryan is turning green, anything you can do?" Graham asks. 

"Well, we're probably going to crash soon, so ju..."

"Crash?" The younger man interrupts, his voice squeaky. 

"Yep. Sorry. Don't let go, and please don't be sick Ryan. Last time someone was si..." Her sentence is cut short by a last swerving motion, before they hit the ground violently. The impact shakes the entire TARDIS, echoing in a loud vibration that travels through the walls. The chaos of the last seconds leaves place to a stunned silence that stretches across the control room, until the Doctor lets out a relieved sigh and tentatively makes her way up to her feet. 

"Is it over?" Graham speaks, and Ryan clears his throat before answering.

"So everyone agrees we're never doing this again. Right?" 

Yaz grunts, leaning against the railings and sparing a moment to appreciate the stable floor under her feet. "Never again." 

"Good or bad news first?" The Doctor interrupts from where she's now standing, crouched over the TARDIS' display. 

"I don't think I can take any bad news right now, Doc." Graham replies, as he climbs up the stairs. 

"Well, good news is that we're on Sinda Calista, and their technology is pretty advanced. We should be able to buy spare parts for the TARDIS, once I've figured out what's wrong." She pauses, frown deepening at the Galifreyan symbols traveling across the screen. "Bad news is, those readings are all over the place. Something is wrong." She runs down the steps, heading for the door and grabbing her coat from where it's draped over a column. 

"Something is wrong where we've landed. Shocking." Graham deadpans, watching as both Ryan and Yaz joins the Doctor. 

"If you don't want to come..." The Time Lord trails off, and he makes his way across the room with a sigh. "All right, all of you stay close until we know what's going on." 

***************

"And no interfering, we know." Ryan teases, skipping around the blond. "Ready?" He doesn't wait for a response, before pushing against the door and drawing a loud whir from the unhappy TARDIS. He wavers under the force of the wind outside, taking a step back as he tries to slam the door shut. It's too late, and the younger man loses his breath as biting cold air blasts through the ship, traveling around the control room.

In a matter of seconds, a thick layer of ice is covering every visible surface from wall to ceiling, and a somber silence falls onto the TARDIS. The only movement in the room is a swirl of lost snowflakes traveling through the air, until the lighting flickers and dies, leaving the dimmed central column as the only source of light. 

"What... Just happened?" Ryan asks quietly, blinking as he sees his own breath crystallize in the chilly atmosphere. The Doctor doesn't reply, barely noticing as her feet takes her closer to the console. The sound of her boots hitting the metallic stairs echoes eerily, and Yaz realizes that the ship's characteristic hum has disappeared from the background. She watches as the Time Lord stares at the control panel, rooted to her spot until she sees the blond's hands softly trail around the switches and levers. The Doctor leans on her elbows and lets her head fall forwards, propelling Yaz to join her. Ryan tries to follow, but Graham wraps his arm around his shoulders, holding him back. 

"Doc?" He tries, gently. 

"She's dead." The shakiness in her voice is enough to make the humans stop breathing as they let the news sink in. 

"But you can fix it, right?" Ryan says, gulping when he sees the blond head gives a certain shake. 

"There's nothing to fix. She's just... Frozen. Forever." 

Yaz stops moving, forcing herself to stay calm. The Doctor is the thinker of their group, coming up with the best plans whenever they're trying to solve a crisis. But there's something about the TARDIS that triggers an unusual emotional response from her friend. Yaz noticed it on Desolation first, when the ship didn't appear at the finish line of the race. It happened again on Tsuranga, when the medical spacecraft took them away, leaving the TARDIS at the mercy of scavengers. 

The dark haired woman doesn't really understand their connection - it's still hard to wrap her head around the concept of a sentient _ship_ \- but the Doctor might be letting that emotional attachment clouds her judgement. Someone else has to step up, and Yaz carefully climbs the stairs to join the motionless Time Lord who's leaning against the dematerialization lever. 

Standing behind her friend's shoulder, she takes a moment to examine the state of the room. The green glow of the central column is fainter than usual, but the TARDIS is still producing enough light to allow them to move around safely. The few snowflakes that trickled into the room have melted, leaving the smallest of puddles on the floor. Yaz can still feel the cold biting against her exposed skin, but her leather jacket is enough to stop the shivers that ran through her when Ryan opened the door. In fact... She glances back, confirming that both men are fine. They're humans and the cold hasn't killed them. So, unless the TARDIS has some sort of structural weakness that makes her vulnerable to snow or ice... 

"Why are we not frozen?" 

"Because she's protect..." The Doctor suddenly goes very still, before letting out a quiet gasp. "She's protecting us. She can't be dead, if she's protecting us." She turns around, and Yaz barely has time to notice the tears shining in her hazel eyes before they're brushed away, and she finds herself caught in a hug by one perceptibly relieved alien. 

"Yasmin Khan, you are brilliant." The words are whispered against her ear, and Yaz ignores the shiver traveling up her back in answer. She sneaks her arms around the Doctor's waist and allows herself a few seconds to indulge in the rare feeling of comfort brought by their bodies pressed together - the blond is not a hugger, despite what today's events might indicate - before she loosens her hold on the alien. Her breath catches when it's the Doctor who doesn't let go, only bringing Yaz closer with a choked noise that sounds a lot like a whimper. 

The reaction triggers the dark haired woman's protective instinct, and she's surprised by the fierce warmth surging through her chest. She tightens her grip on the Time Lord again, shifting until the Doctor lets her head rest against her shoulder with Yaz's fingers gently trailing up and down her back. "You're all right. You're not alone, we're right here." She hesitates, drawing courage from the content sigh she feels against her neck. "I'm here." She whispers, and the Doctor's hands grips into her jacket in a wordless answer. 

"Yaz is right. You just tell us what to do, and we'll help. You and your ship are going to be just fine." Graham gently adds, and the Doctor suddenly notices him standing right besides her, Ryan on his left. She swallows and takes a deep breath, releasing her hold on the younger woman with a tight smile. The familiar urge to put some distance between herself and her friends floods through her mind after that unexpected display of vulnerability. 

"Of course, I'll be fine. I just don't know what to do yet." She answers, with an awkward clear of her throat. She pushes the rush of conflicting emotions flowing through her brain in a corner of her mind, choosing to focus on the more urgent task. "But we can't stay here, I hope you lot like winter." 

***************

"Maybe she needs help." Ryan suggests, after a few minutes of the group standing noiselessly around the central console. The Doctor disappeared into the depth of the TARDIS' hallways a few minutes earlier, with nothing more than a quick "Be right back" thrown over her shoulder. 

"She told us to wait." Yaz reminds him distractedly, her mind still preoccupied by how shaken the other woman looked, when she thought the TARDIS was dead.

"I'm sure she'll give us a shout if we can do something." Graham adds, and the humans fall quiet again. There's something troubling about the control room, a heavy silence that makes everyone uncomfortable. They didn't realize how attached they had grown to the chaotic energy flowing through the ship, fed by the odd relationship between the TARDIS and her pilot. Now that they're both missing, it feels wrong to be standing around the console. 

The thought has barely gone through Yaz's mind, when the Doctor appears in the doorway, a heavy backpack on both of her shoulders and another one in her hands. She throws the bag she's holding to Graham, who grunts when he catches it. 

"You took your time." 

"Sorry I can't engineer dimensions fast enough for you, Graham." She fires back, motioning to the bags. The Doctor seems back to her usual self, if the familiar banter is any indication. "Also, all the doors are frozen." She sighs. "Fixing her might take a while."

Ryan starts digging into the bag at his feet, finding an extensive collection of winter clothing. His eyes widen when he sees a pair of heavy boots, woolen socks, coats, googles, and a ski hat. "Do we really need all that?" 

Yaz is already putting on trekking pants over her every day trousers, and she gives him a pointed stare. "Look around you." 

"Okay, but why two coa..." 

"First one is a more of a jacket. It's a windbreaker, water proof and supposed to be tight on you. The other one..." The Doctor points to the noticeably heavy piece of clothing Ryan is holding. "Is insulated. That's what's going to really protect you from the cold." Ryan sighs, glancing between the alien and the winter gear scattered around him, before he starts taking off his regular shoes. 

After a moment spent sorting out the sleeves, Yaz tugs on the laces of her heavy jacket's hood. The additional layers are not exactly comfortable, but she feels a little more prepared to face the cold that's awaiting them outside. She wriggles her toes inside the cramped space of her boots, and gives a satisfied nod when she realizes that the heavy socks still leaves enough room to move with ease. Raising her head, she freezes when she finds the Doctor standing right in front of her. 

"Everything all right?" Yaz asks, lowering her voice.

The Doctor hesitates, pursing her lips before nodding. "Fine. You need any help?" She tilts her head to indicate Ryan and Graham, busy helping each other put on thick gloves. 

Yaz fetches her own gloves from the front compartment of her bag, handing them away with a small smile. The Doctor slides the first one over her left hand, and the younger woman does her best to ignore how the blond's fingertips brush teasingly against the skin of her wrist, as she rolls up the tight sleeve of Yaz's windbreaker.

"Cold?" 

Yaz opens her mouth to answer negatively, before noticing how the Doctor is frowning at the arm she's holding. The human follows her eyes, realizes that there's goosebumps all over her inner arm and grasps for an answer. "Ah, yes. Just a bit." She pulls down her sleeve, wriggling the fingers of her glove covered left hand. "Better now though." 

The Doctor smiles and repeats the same actions on Yaz's right hand, before raising her gaze back to the younger woman's. The warm affection shining in her brown eyes takes the Time Lord by surprise, and she stumbles for words. "There. Can't have a frozen Yaz." 

"Thanks." Closing her fist to test how comfortable the gloves are, she spares a grateful thought for the soft material enveloping her fingers. "I like them. But what about you?" Yaz frowns, noting that the Doctor is still in her usual combo of shirt and light grey coat. The rainbow scarf draped around her neck is her only acknowledgement of the harsh weather waiting for them outside of the blue box. 

"I can handle the cold, don't worry." She nods towards her feet. "Look, I even got long pants." 

"Right. That's going to keep you from freezing." Yaz raises a dubious eyebrow, but it only draws a quiet chuckle from the Doctor. 

"I'll be fine." She raises her voice, turning to Ryan and Graham waiting silently in the background, buried under several layers of clothing with their backpacks firmly placed on their shoulders. Yaz does the same, sliding the straps around her body before snapping the clasp closed around her waist.

***************

"How about you go see if you're warm enough?" The Doctor asks, letting her eyes travel to the central console. "There's a few things I need to do before we can leave." 

Yaz opens her mouth to protest - they should wait and all leave together - but Graham interrupts, gently guiding her towards the door. "Come on. We've done enough waiting around for the day." Pushing the two youngest members of the group forwards, he turns back and gives a tight smile to the alien. The Doctor nods gratefully in reply, before turning her attention back to the TARDIS. 

Once she's left alone, she slowly makes her way up the stairs, trailing her fingers against the iciness of the metal railings. The cold burns her fingertips, but the sensation doesn't register as she stands in front of the console, rooted to the spot with the Sonic held loosely in her right hand. 

“Hi.” The whisper breaks the eerily quiet atmosphere. “I’m going to shut you down, just for a bit.” A soft whine echoes into the Doctor’s mind, and she can’t remember the last time she was so happy to feel the ship in her head. 

“I know, don’t like it either. But I have to fix you, and you'll need all your energy. Can't waste it keeping an old Time Lord warm.” Another protest, weaker this time, and the Doctor's gaze snaps to the console when she catches a movement from the corner of her eyes. She smiles, watching as a custard cream biscuit slides down towards her. 

“I’ll miss you too.” She takes the food, biting into it sadly. “A lot.” She swallows against the sudden tightness in her throat, before gently tapping the end of her screwdriver against the central column. 

“Ready?” The Doctor waits for a reply, sighing at the sad purr she receives. “Won’t hurt.” She activates the Sonic, sending sparks flying all over the controls. “Sorry, I lied.” 

The expected protest doesn't come with the TARDIS now powered down, and the silence sends a startling feeling of dread coursing through the Time Lord’s body. Pilot and ship have been separated before, but never in that kind of semi-permanent way. Her mind is empty without the comforting presence of her oldest friend, and she has to force a deep breath into her lungs. 

“Right. I’ll be fine.” She eyes the central column somberly, pressing a kiss against her index and middle finger, before touching the darkened crystal. “Sleep well, old girl. I...” She hesitates pursing her lips as she glances around the empty room. “I love you.” 

Ignoring the tears prickling in her eyes, she jumps over the stairs, exits the ship and turns back to lock the door. She leans her forehead against the wood for a second, before tucking the key into her shirt, keeping it safe from the cold wind blowing around her as she leaves the blue box behind. 


	2. Day One (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is now a 3 parter. Part 2 is not exactly a filler because a lot of relevant conversations happen, but it's mostly about getting the team settled. Thank you to everyone who left comments, they're a big help whenever I hit a tough part to write :-)

The icy wind steals her breath when the Doctor turns to face it, cold biting into every inch of exposed skin. With a quiet gasp that crystallizes in front of her, she blinks through the frozen remains of her tears before circling the TARDIS. The site of the crash is right in the middle of a mountain, and she spots Ryan, Graham and Yaz trudging towards the peak in knee deep snow. 

The humans are pushing and pulling each other, struggling to advance against the combined effect of snow and wind. The Doctor can practically hear Graham’s grumbling from where she’s standing, and the familiarity of her friends' banter helps settle the messy emotions still swirling around her brain. Sparing a grateful thought for their company, she moves to join the group on their climb. 

She stops right behind them, to watch Ryan grip Graham’s arm from his left side, tilting her head in curious observation. 

"What are you doing?" The Doctor asks, and her companions startles, surprised to see her catching up with them so quickly. 

"How did you get here so fast?" 

"By using your tracks." She frowns. "Have you ever walked into snow?" 

"We're from Sheffield, it snows twice a year." Graham glares. 

"Suit yourselves."

With a shrug, she strolls around the older man and sighs when a blast of wind blows against her. The Doctor reluctantly admits that a trip back to the TARDIS' wardrobe might be in order to find some warmer clothes for herself. She tucks her nose into her scarf for now, intend on getting her companions settled somewhere safe before returning to the ship. She has no idea how long they'll be stuck in the midst of winter, but climbing the mountain should give them a good viewpoint to find shelter. 

The Doctor is snapped out of her thoughts by the noise of heavy breathing, and she smiles when she glances over her shoulder. Yaz is walking directly behind her, her attention firmly set on the ground while she walks into the Time Lord's footsteps, Ryan on her heels. Graham is last in line, still mumbling to himself about how much he hates "That wet snow and the know-it-all alien who could have said something sooner." The Doctor's smile grows into a smirk, but she bites back her smug reply when she notices they're approaching the highest point of the mountain. 

The sight that welcomes them once they reach the summit stuns the group into silence. A sparkly blanket of white snow envelops the ground as far as they can see, reflecting the blinding light of two suns shining over their heads. The mountain is surrounded by flat land, except for the thick cover of trees scattered over the hill they climbed on. At the bottom of the slope, there's a large cluster of structures gathered together in the middle of a valley. It's an odd mix of tents and snowy shelters, surrounded by a high fence made of wood. The Doctor nods. That would do. 

"What's that?" Ryan asks, following the blond's gaze. 

"A village." 

"Looks more like a camp." Graham comments, slightly out of breath when he emerges from the climb.

"It is. But a camp is the best we'll find at this point." The Doctor answers, scrunching her nose. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Sinda Calista used to be pretty much like Earth... Temperate climate, lots of sun, oceans, rain, everything. Even rainbows. Bit too hot though, if you ask me. They had two different seasons, like your summer and winter."

"And then?" Yaz presses.

"Then nothing. It was winter and summer just never came. It kept snowing and the temperatures kept dropping. People had to adapt, they left their homes and built winter camps." The Doctor shrugs, motioning to the icy landscape. "Welcome to the Ice Age of Sinda Calista." 

"But there has to be a reason! Maybe if we can sort it out, summer would come back, and the TARDIS would warm up." Ryan thinks out loud, but the Doctor stops him.

"No." 

Graham frowns. "Why not? People would be grateful, surely. No normal person can enjoy permanent winter." 

"They could go back to their old lives, and we could go back home." Yaz adds, and the Doctor turns abruptly.

"If you want to figure out what happened here, you can. But there's no fixing it. We can't change this, not even a tiny bit." She says, eyes scanning her friends, before sighing when she picks up on their same doubtful gazes. "Listen to me. There are some things we just..." She trails off, struggling to find an explanation that would satisfy the group, without getting into the concept of fixed points in time. "Can't interfere with. The Calistans will use the Ice Age as a chance to regroup. They'll work together and come up with technology that will allow million of people to stabilize their planet's atmosphere. That's thousands of species who will be able to regulate their own climate, and thousands of lives saved from natural catastrophes. Even humans will use it to turn hostile planets into livable settlements. I'm not risking it" 

"I'm sure they would still come up with it, even if winter stopped." Graham points out, before the Doctor levels him with a somber glare. 

"How would you know, Graham?" She snaps, scrubbing a tired hand down her face when she catches his surprised frown. "I'll do my best to get you home as soon as possible, I promise you. But there's nothing we can do about the Ice Age."

"That's it? We just have to accept that? That's not like you, Doc." 

"Oh, it's very me. I'm sorry." The Doctor's eyes trail to the valley, lost among her own memories. An awkward silence lingers over the group, before Yaz speaks up. 

"All right then. Winter it is. It's not all bad, we can have a snow fight." 

The suggestion brings the Time Lord out of her melancholic reflection. "Yes, we can." She pauses, pondering the idea. "I won the snow fighting event at the Chkchula Olympics. That was fun. Never got my medal though, the whole thing was interrupted by a meteorite about to hit the planet." 

Yaz chuckles, leading the way down the opposite side of the mountain as they start off towards the camp. "Can't wait to say I beat an Olympic champion." 

***************

Yaz lets out a long sigh, as her eyes browse through the long list of teams responsible for different parts of the camp's organization. The Calistans were quick to allow entrance to the group when they approached the gated entrance. The agreement was simple: Food and shelter were available to anyone willing to offer work in return. Finding a job however, was much more complicated than the younger woman imagined.

The Doctor's absence doesn't help, with Ryan and Graham looking just as puzzled as her. The alien left seconds after they reached terms with the people in charge of the camp with a quick excuse about how she needed to get started on the TARDIS' repair, if they ever wanted to go home. It made sense at the time, but now that Yaz is sitting on a log and struggling to understand a list of confusing titles, she wishes they would have held the woman back. 

Some of the tasks are straightforward, "Hunting" and "Cooking" can't be that different from Earth's definitions, but Yaz has no idea what the "Environmental Maintenance" team or the "Perimeter Safety" team is in charge of. 

"What are you going for?" She asks, peering at Graham and Ryan sitting on the opposite side of the wooden platform being used as a table. 

"Mechanics." Ryan shrugs, making Yaz wish the camp had a police department. Sadly, nothing on the list looks remotely similar to her current job. 

"Graham?" 

"Environmental Maintenance." 

Yaz frowns at his answer. "What's that about?" 

"No idea. Can't be that complica..." He's cut off by one of the camp's leader heading towards their table. It's the man who welcomed them earlier, immediately putting the group at ease with his wide smile and gentle eyes. His English is colored with a deep singing accent that the humans barely notice, too busy appreciating that people on Sinda Calista even know their language, since the TARDIS' translation system is temporarily disabled. 

The man - Achilles - takes a seat on the log next to Yaz and slides two small keys on the table. 

"You've been assigned to shelter 1012 and 1013." He pauses, smiling. "Both are mountain side, as you requested." 

"There are four of us." Graham remarks, interrogatively.

Achilles only shakes his head. "I know, but we are already running out of space. You'll have to share, our apologies." He stands, before noticing the papers scattered around. "Have you chosen a team?" Ryan and Graham offer silent nods, before Yaz wonders aloud.

"Do you have any sort of..." She trails off, knowing that "police" is not a common term away from Earth. "Security team?" 

"Of course. The Perimeter Safety group patrol our borders. They work in shifts, during the day and at night." 

"Only the borders?" Yaz asks, confused. 

"Yes, of course. Where else would they go?" 

"What if people need help inside the camp?" 

"We... I never thought of that." He said, with a long sigh. "Our village is new, and there is so much to consider. Would you be willing to join the team? Maybe you could help Hector organize the patrols." 

Yaz's eyes widen at the suggestion. "Of course, yes." 

"All sorted then. I'll leave you to get settled, you can report tomorrow morning. Work days start at 8:30, with breakfast available until 8. I'm afraid you've already missed the evening meal, but feel free to stop by the kitchen. We might have some leftovers."

The man leaves, and Graham waits until he's out of hearing range before leaning closer to his friends. "I know we're stuck here, but I have to say, regular meals will be very appreciated." 

Yaz and Ryan don't bother answering him, the younger man only rolling his eyes. Yaz tunes the conversation out and glances around, taking in their surroundings. They're near the entrance of the camp, sitting in what seems to be a dining hall. It reminds her of the cafeteria at primary school, except the long tables are organized in a circle with an imposing pile of wood gathered in the middle. Narrowing her eyes, she catches a leftover wisp of smoke hinting at recent use of the fire pit. 

From what she can see, the rest of the village is composed of smaller snowy structures and larger tents used as common spaces. Yaz already spotted a medical tent and what appeared to be a school earlier. 

"Too cold for me, but there are worse places to get stranded." The dark haired woman catches Graham's comment, and she nods silently. 

"No kidding." Ryan approves. "Maybe I'll get time to study for my NVQs." His eyes slide to the keys left on the table. "Want to share, Yaz?" He offers, reaching for the first one. 

The younger woman hesitates. She enjoys Ryan's company and appreciates how he treats her like the sibling he never had. They have fun together, easily slipping back into the competitive friendship they shared in primary school. Sometimes it's nice to just unwind with someone closer to her age group. Graham is much older, and the Doctor... Well, the Doctor is an alien with a very loose grasp of twenty first century's pop culture. Yaz sighs. An alien with a very loose grasp of twenty first century's pop culture, on which she has an out of control crush. 

It didn't take long before Ryan figured out her feelings for the older woman. He brought it up casually one day, when they were busy trying out alien video games in the TARDIS' entertainment center. The controllers slipped out of Yaz's hands in shock, and she was stuck watching her ship burst into flames on the screen, as she struggled to deny his claim. Ryan's only answer was a dubious raised eyebrow, and they stared at each other in silence until Yaz sighed and admitted defeat. 

His reaction was surprisingly supportive, - Yaz expected a gentle reminder that having a crush on a time traveling alien was a terrible idea - he shrugged before involuntarily sending her thoughts spiraling. "I don't think it's one sided, mate." Yaz spent the rest of that day dissecting every interaction she ever had with the Doctor, eventually deciding that he was wrong. 

Ryan had been pretty good about not teasing her too much, until Graham picked up on the odd interactions between the two youngest members of the group. It happened the day after their trip to Lancashire, after Yaz spent a little too long fussing over the Doctor's residual cough as she dropped them off in Sheffield. The woman had almost drowned, Yaz still doesn't think she was being unreasonable by suggesting to stay behind to keep an eye on her. She was sent on her way home with a last insurance ("Really, I've had _much_ worse. I'm fine.") and the first real hug offered by the Doctor. She automatically returned the embrace, arms squeezed around the alien's waist, but the mixed feelings of comforting warmth and electric attraction overloaded her brain. Yaz barely remembers how she got out of the ship, but once she stepped outside of the TARDIS, Graham and Ryan were staring at her with identical knowing smirks.

Since then, the two men have found endless joking material in their day to day adventures. Yaz isn't completely unhappy, watching Ryan and Graham grow closer as they exchange meaningful glances and smiles at her expanse. Thankfully, the Doctor and her lack of awareness of social cues are still completely oblivious to their dynamics, leaving Yaz content to suffer her friends' gentle teasing in silence. 

"Don't be daft. I'm not sharing with the Doctor. She never sleeps." Graham interrupts Yaz's silent musings. 

"She sleeps." The younger woman corrects, the words out of her mouth before she has a chance to realize how they would sound. Ryan's eyes widen and he gives a slow grin, drawing a resigned sigh out of Yaz. She closes her eyes and braces herself for the teasing she knows is coming.

"How would you know that?" 

"Of course she sleeps. Everyone sleeps." 

"The Doc is always awake when I go to bed." Ryan points out, and Graham jumps back into the conversation. 

"Right, and she's always awake when I get up." He adds, knowing he's the earliest riser out of the group. 

"Something you want to tell us, Yaz?

"Nope." The dark haired woman replies, reaching for the closest key and leaving the table in search of their assigned spots. Graham and Ryan share a knowing look, before scrambling to follow her, the older man pocketing the second key. 

***************

Finding shelter 1012 and 1013 takes a lot longer than anticipated, after Graham insists that they stop to find the leftovers of the evening meal. They gather some food from what’s essentially a kitchen, sliding wrapped pieces of bread into their backpacks, before heading towards the residential part of the camp. Their detour is interrupted by many Calistans offering warm welcomes. The humans are easy to spot in the crowd, since they don’t have the face markings shared by the aliens - two red stripes under both eyes - and they’re significantly taller than most people they encounter. 

When they've finally greeted every intrigued person who gathered around them, Ryan and Graham disappear into their shelter with a quick goodbye, leaving Yaz alone with her backpack to examine what might turn out to be her home for a while. The structure is small, the roof barely higher than her height, and the walls curve together in an odd pile of snow. It looks a little like igloos from Earth - at least the image Yaz has of how igloos are supposed to look - and she can't help but wonder how she's supposed to keep warm with walls made of snow. 

Approaching the house, she touches the rounded surface and looks curiously at the wet mark left on the material of her glove. She brushes it off against her coat before making her way to the wooden door. 

Sliding the lock behind her - the Doctor could use the Sonic to get in - Yaz stands silently in the middle of the entrance, observing her new space with wide eyes. The shelter is much bigger than she imagined, with indoor walls dividing the space. The main room includes a small couch, a radio perched on a shelf made of ice, what looks like some sort of kitchen appliances that Yaz is definitely not touching before she can ask the Doctor about them, a table and two small chairs. 

There's a window carved into the roof, the only noticeable source of light in the house. Yaz frowns as she considers how dark the room would be, come nighttime. Her phone's flashlight will have to suffice for now, at least until she can go searching for candles. 

The young woman leaves the main space, testing one of the two doors leading to other rooms. One is a fully furnished bathroom, and she doesn't even question how the Calistans managed to install a sewer system, too thankful for indoor plumbing. 

The other door leads to a bedroom, and Yaz freezes when she notices the bed. It's a hammock attached to opposite walls with heavy metallic spikes. Twisting her head around, she searches for another bed and frowns when she finds none. Are they supposed to share that hammock? She glances back to the main room, noting that she could always sleep on the couch. 

With a shrug, Yaz dismisses the concern for later. She's alone for now, and too exhausted to think properly. Approaching the bed on the left side, she gingerly sits on the moving surface. It bends under her weight and she lays back, not even bothering to slide off her boots. There's no blanket in sight, and she tugs on the collar of her coat until she can bury her nose against the soft material, settling in for a short nap. 

Just a few minutes, and she can start figuring out how to warm up the shelter. She should eat something too, she can't remember when she had her last mea... Yaz's thought trails off, when deep slumber sneaks up on her. 

***************

The Doctor jumps over the wooden fence surrounding the village a few hours after sunset, dodging a security patrol on her way to the biggest tent she can see. She finds the structure empty, but spots the list of camp residents fairly quickly, a paper with names and shelter numbers hastily scrawled. She finds her friends' names before leaving the room, making a mental note to talk to someone about security. That kind of personal information should not be left unattended. The Ice Age is not exactly a stable political period on Sinda Calista, and she's not letting Ryan, Graham and Yaz stay in a place that's not safe. 

Wandering silently across snowy alleys, she follows the signs towards her companions' lots with her hands deep into her pockets. The assessment of the damages suffered by the TARDIS took longer than planned without the ship's usual assistance, and she can't shake the chill that got into her bones since the sun disappeared over the horizon. She knows the cold is only partly responsible for her frazzled state, and she gulps when she considers the news she has to break to her friends. 

Thankfully, the walk is short and she finds herself facing the door of Ryan and Graham's shelter. She sighs and unlocks it with a whir of the Sonic, falling face to face with the men's stunned gazes. Their eyes widen at the sight of her, and the Doctor frowns. 

"What?" 

"You look like a snowwoman. Are you okay?" Ryan asks.

"I'm f.. Fine." She answers, annoyed when she notices how her teeth are chattering. "Don't worry. Where's Yaz?" 

"Next door." Graham replies, before Ryan interrupts.

"We figured you wouldn't mind sharing." He says, with an odd smirk that the Doctor can't quite make sense of. 

"It's fine." She shrugs, eyes wandering across the small space as she fumbles for a way to gently tell them about the TARDIS' state. "I've been working on the TARDIS, and it's..." She sighs, remembering the deep layer of ice surrounding the ship's heart. "It's not good. I think I'll have to defrost her by hand." 

Graham and Ryan share a confused look, before the older man voices their question. "And that's... bad?" 

"It's going to take me months of work. Maybe more."

A shocked silence stretches across the room, interrupted only by Ryan's soft gasp. "Can we help?" 

"Not really. The real damage is to her heart, and humans can't go there. Too dangerous." 

"Listen, Doc..." Graham approaches, reaching out in an uncharacteristic display of physical affection. "It's not li..." He interrupts himself once he touches the blond's fingers. "Your hand feels like ice. You need to warm up." 

She shrugs, cupping both of her hands together and blowing against her cold skin. "Don't worry about me." 

He frowns at that, but decides to continue with his initial idea. He spent the last hours caught in a bout of insomnia while Ryan tinkered with the radio, and he already considered the possibility of being stranded on this odd planet for more than just a few days. "It's not like I left anything important back on Earth. A few mates and that old cat I keep feeding at the house, but that's it. We knew the risks when we decided to go with you." 

"We did." Ryan cuts into the conversation with a shrug. "There's only people at work that are going to miss me, and my study mates. We can live here for a bit."

Graham nods, finishing his thoughts. "But Yaz has more to l..." Ryan winces in sympathy, as the Doctor interrupts.

"I know, Graham. I know." 

"I don't think you do." He looks at her, with a quiet intensity that catches her off-guard. "You weren't there in Punjab when we talked about her nan. That woman next door..." He trails off with a long sigh. "Loves her family to bits. She's not retired, she's not in between jobs, she didn't lose someone... She didn't need to get away. But she's here now."

"She'll need us." Ryan remarks, from the background. 

"No." Graham says, before correcting himself. "Well, yes. But she's going to need you more than anyone." He levels the Doctor with a serious stare, and she freezes. 

"Don't know what you mea..." 

"Come on, Doc." Graham warns, and Ryan's wide eyes travel from one to the other, following the conversation. "We all wanted to see the universe, and travel with you, and help people. I'm sure Yaz wanted all of that too. But it was about you for her. I don't believe she would have followed any other alien offering to take her away." He pauses, narrowing his eyes. "I think you know that, and I think you know how she feels." 

The Doctor's shoulders raise and fall with a long sigh, the only acknowledgement that she's listening to him as her eyes wander aimlessly around the room. Graham chooses to interpret the alien's quiet attitude as a good sign and he squeezes her upper arm. "Be there for her. She'll need someone to lean on, after losing her family like that." 

"I'll do my best." It's a whisper, but the words land heavily into the silent room. 

"That's all I'm asking. Don't run, Doc."

She shivers at his last sentence, wondering if he's aware of how much he's asking. Running is how she copes with the thousand years of bottled up emotions inside her. When she gets overwhelmed, she hops on board the TARDIS and fly away. It's what she's been doing her whole lives. Now she's stuck in one place, without the comfort of her telepathic connection to her ship, and he wants her to face personal feelings for the first time since... 

Well, for the first time since Rose, really. River and Clara never made her talk about her feelings. Amy tried, but she - well, _he_ \- only had to bring up Rory to cut the discussion short. Lost in her thoughts, she offers an abrupt nod to Graham and Ryan before turning on her heels, leaving the two men behind. 

The door slides shut, and Ryan shuffles closer to his granddad. "You mean... She knew? The whole time?" He pauses, trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected development. "About Yaz fancying her, I mean." He frowns. "And you knew too?" 

The older man shrugs, turning back to the bedroom. "I'm old enough to notice when someone has a crush, Ryan. And I think the Doc has been around even longer." His wistful voice makes Ryan frown, as he considers how little they know about the woman they've traveled halfway across the universe with. "I'm also too old to sleep on the couch. Good luck, son."


	3. Day One (3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the final part of what I had planned when I started off writing this story (See the ending note for more details about what's next, I don't want to spoil anything before you even read it :-P). 
> 
> Trigger warning for panic attack though, this is where the hurt/comfort tag comes into play.
> 
> I can't say thank you enough for all the comments and kudos, I never really expect people to read my stuff and I'm blown away when it happens. I hope you all enjoy part 3!!

Clunk.

The dull noise startles Yaz awake, sending her flying out of the hammock as she rushes to stand. Her impact with the floor is cushioned by the many layers of clothing she fell asleep in, and she rolls on her back, blinking at the ceiling.

When she's awake enough to remember where she is, the sound repeats and she tracks it back to the main room. Groggily making her way up, she drags herself to the doorway and stands motionless for a second.

Clunk.

Frowning, Yaz realizes that the sound is coming from the front door. It's not a proper knock, more like a dead weight being thrown against the wood. Intrigued, she takes a step towards the entrance before freezing when she catches sight of the roof window.

The shining stars looking back at her are throwing an eerie silver glow across the room. Night fell while she was sleeping, and the Doctor still isn't back.

Clunk. 

The harmless noise suddenly seems a lot more ominous. Yaz is alone, and someone - or something - is hitting against the door in the middle of the night, mere hours after they crashed on a foreign planet.

Nervously rummaging through her coats' pockets, the police officer gulps when she remembers where she left her phone.

In her room.

On the TARDIS

Somewhere near the top of a very high mountain.

Clunk.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Yaz takes in the furniture scattered around the room. The list of objects she can use to defend herself is sadly short, with the chairs being her only practical option. She could throw the radio at the intruder's head, but she has no way to know if the diversion would buy her enough time to run over to Ryan and Graham's shelter.

With a sigh, she grips the wooden chair in one hand and makes her way to the entrance with carefully measured steps.

Clunk.

Yaz puts the palm of her hand against the door's handle, sliding off the lock and slowly pressing against the surface until a crack of light appears. She peers into the opening, tilting her head as she catches a glimpse of blond hair and a flash of orange light.

“Doctor?”

The Time Lord jumps, snapped out of her thoughts by her name. She looks up from the slippery metal of her screwdriver and catches Yaz's curious gaze with a sheepish smile.

“S... Sorry. Couldn’t get the Sonic to w... work.” The Doctor manages to get out through gritted teeth. The chills racking her body worsen over the last few minutes, as she stood frozen in front of the door, pondering Graham's little speech.

The cold slowly went through her fingers, and when she noticed, it was too late to use the Sonic properly. She kept fumbling with the switch and dropping the screwdriver against the door.

Yaz frowns at the stutter, discarding the chair and pushing the door opened. The Doctor has to press against her to fit in the narrow opening, and it allows Yaz to get a better look at her friend, gasping when she notices the state she's in.

The woman is visibly shivering, arms wrapped tightly around herself and snowflakes scattered through her messy blond hair. She looks paler than usual, and her lips are an unnatural bluish color that makes Yaz wince in sympathy. Reaching for one of the Doctor’s hand, she goes still when her fingers brush against frozen skin.

“Doctor!”

“Don’t worry, I’m f...”

“If your next word is ‘fine’, don’t bother.” Yaz glares, pulling the alien deeper into the room and dragging her to the couch. “No wonder you can’t use the Sonic, your hands feel like ice.”

“Graham said the same. It’s not that b... Bad.”

“Graham? You went to the boys' first?” Yaz says, curious.

The question brings the Doctor out of her dazed observation of Yaz's frantic search of the room - the younger woman is pacing around with a deepening frown on her face - and she straightens her back.

“There’s some... Things I have to tell you.” The Doctor clinches her teeth, willing herself to stop shivering.

Yaz barely glances over her shoulder. “You’ll have to wait until I find the oven. Or the heating system. They have plumbing, they probably have some way to...“

“It’s important, Yaz.” The words sound a little steadier, and the Doctor pulls her coat tighter around herself as she tries to prepare for her friend's reaction.

“To warm up this place. We can’t always wear all those layers.” Yaz frowns, considering the idea. The igloo might be colder than the TARDIS, but she should be able to move around without her outer layer of clothing. She opens the front clasps of her winter coat to find that her windbreaker is enough to keep her body mostly warm, as she shimmers out of the thick material.

“It’s hard to tell how long repairing the TARDIS will take me. Might be months...” The Doctor pauses, her eyes firmly locked on her own hands, wrangled over her knees. “Or more.”

The quiet whisper lands heavily into the room, and Yaz feels her heart drop. She isn't entirely surprised, she saw the amount of damage sustained by the TARDIS before they left. The ship survived, but the state of the control room hinted at long term repair.

Hearing the Doctor confirm that she wouldn't get to see her family for months - or years - squashes the last glimmer of hope she was trying to hang onto.

Yaz glances over to the alien, intend to ask if there's anything they can do to help with the TARDIS, before noticing how the Doctor's chills abruptly vanished.

“You’ve stopped shivering.”

“Not important. Listen to m...”

“It’s important, it means you’re getting colder!” Yaz snaps, approaching the couch with her coat in hands. “Lean forwards.”

The Doctor does, if only for the opportunity to establish eye contact with Yaz as she drapes the warm fabric around her back. “Did you hear what I’ve j...”

Yaz sighs, falling into the couch. “Yes. I heard you. And I am not letting you die from hypothermia, if we’re stuck here. Ryan and Graham were useless earlier." She tries, with a halfhearted smile.

“Better keep me alive then. You’d really be stuck if I d... died anyway.” The Doctor tentatively answers, her teasing falling flat against Yaz’s concerns.

“Seriously? You’re my best friend, Doctor. There’s nobody else I’d rather be stranded with.”

_Stuck with you, it ain’t so bad._

The Time Lord stops breathing when Yaz accidentally echoes the words of another young woman who wanted to see the stars. The urge to run courses through her body with a desperation she hasn't felt in centuries, and she has to will herself to stay still. Her hands grip into Yaz's coat as she forces a deep breath into her lungs. There is nowhere to run to, except for pacing around the room which she knows by experience won't help much. It would only make the nervous energy bubbling in her head stronger.

The reminder of Graham's warning interrupts her chaotic thoughts, and she glances at the younger woman to meet concerned brown eyes. Yaz needs her help, she can't run.

Besides, her own triggered memory is wrong. Yaz is not Rose. They share a deep capacity to feel and care for others and a clear taste for adventures, but the two women couldn't be more different. Rose needed a hero, someone to rescue her from what she saw as an insignificant life on Earth. Yaz was doing everything in her power to be her own hero, despite the doubts of her family and coworkers.

The younger woman's determination brings back memories of a much younger Time Lord throwing longing glances towards the fleet of TARDIS parked around the Citadel. The universe was calling to her back then, and she can see the same thirst for exploration shining in Yaz's eyes whenever the TARDIS takes off. That spark was drawing her in, in a way the Doctor has never experienced before.

“Doctor? Is your brain frozen too?” The dark haired woman asks, when the alien falls quiet.

“Hope not, I’ll need it.” She pauses, pushing her previous reflection into a corner of her mind. “I’m sorry. For getting us stuck here and because you won't see your fam...”

“Stop.” Yaz shuffles to the edge of the couch, settling her elbows on her knees and letting her head falls forwards. “I can’t think about that right now. You need to warm up, and we need to get some sleep so I don’t look like an idiot for my first day of work tomorrow.”

The Doctor sighs quietly. Yaz’s grief and fear are going to catch up with her, humans’ emotions are funny like that. But life-changing news always take a while to sink in, and if the younger woman wants to hold off on facing the reality of being stranded on a foreign planet, she'll be glad to oblige.

"All right." The Doctor whispers in agreement, and Yaz feels part of the nervous tension in the room dissolve. A hand lands softly against her head, cold fingers tangling into her hair and sending shivers through her spine.

“Sorry. Cold hands, I keep forgett...” Yaz's fingers wrap around her wrist before she can think of removing her hand, holding it in place and cutting off her apology.

“It’s fine.” Yaz dismisses. She can handle the cold, especially with the answering warmth blooming through her chest at the touch. “You don't even feel that col...” Yaz trails off, throwing a sideways glance towards her friend.

The Time Lord is sitting quietly, Yaz's winter coat wrapped loosely around her shoulders. Her teeth have stopped chattering, and her normal colors are slowly coming back. The last traces of snow in her hair have melted away, leaving the shivers running through her arms and back as the only indicators of the state the Doctor was in when she found her outside. Yaz decides that it's at least one problem she can solve.

Following the burst of courage, Yaz slides under the Doctor's arm, moving the coat out of the way as she shuffles closer. She sneaks her arms through the alien's waist, shifting until the soft material is enveloping both of them, and her friend's closest arm falls against her back.

The Doctor freezes at the sudden proximity. Snuggling is the last response she expected from Yaz, and she's caught off guard by how good the younger woman feels, pressed against her side.

It's hard to remember the last time she allowed herself the simple pleasure of holding someone close, and her body sinks into the foreign sensation despite her own desperate instructions. There's something magnetic about Yasmin Khan, soft and comforting, almost familiar. It's the same sensation she has when she loses herself among stars, drifting into deep space on board the TARDIS.

The Doctor blinks in shock when she notices where her own brain is taking her. The odd streak of romanticism isn’t new - it was River’s favorite source of teasing - but she really shouldn’t be thinking about Yaz this way.

There's no time, not while the TARDIS is broken down she tells herself, ignoring the latent fear sending a painful squeeze through her hearts. The best thing she can do for the human is to invest all of her energy into repairing the ship, and reuniting her with her family back on Earth.

Knowing Yaz fancies her is one thing, her personality tends to attract humans. Always has. She's self aware enough to notice their mutual physical attraction, but that's where the feelings between them need to end. She'll have to figure out the thin line between supporting Yaz through the loss of her family, without encouraging the human's crush... Or getting caught up into her own emotions.

Running her unoccupied hand down her face, she sighs before forcing away the messy feelings entangled in her head. They can wait, for now there's nothing keeping her from enjoying the warm body tucked into her side.

Yaz catches the movement and half turns to face her, intrigued by the Doctor's reaction. Her question catches in her throat when the blond’s grip tighten around her back, dragging her into a side-hug they hold for a second.

Yaz smiles, muffled against the Doctor’s shoulder and closes her eyes with a content sigh, not even noticing when she drifts off into light slumber.

***************

The Doctor's attempt at napping lasted exactly twenty-two minutes after Yaz fell asleep against her shoulder. That's when the reality of the TARDIS being powered down sinks in.

Before she knows it, the soothing humming that's usually filling her head is replaced by the drum of her own heartbeats, too loud to think about anything else. The four beat rhythm is echoing through her body, slowly morphing into a low throbbing pain in the back of her head.

Shifting her eyes around, she tries to find a distraction that would settle her mind. Nothing in the room holds her interest for more than a few seconds. The roof window comes close, but eventually falls short with only three constellations visible through the dirty glass. She blinks, and the dim starlight turns into a cruel reminder that she won't be traveling anywhere near the night sky for the foreseeable future.

The sight of the taunting stars brings a shaky restlessness to her thoughts, and she grinds her teeth when she senses her breathing quickening. That's odd. She wasn't out of breath before remembering the size of the surface of Sinda Calista - barely bigger than Earth - and the state of her abandoned ship. Now it feels as if the oxygen is slowly getting sucked out of the room.

Yaz moves against her side, and the Doctor tries to adjust her grip around the human's shoulders, freezing when she notices the weird tremor shaking her own hands. None of this makes sense, unless... Maybe she's falling sick? She can't remember the last time it happened, b...

“What’s wrong?”

The question distracts the Time Lord from the detached observation of her own physical symptoms.

“I’m fine. You should sleep more.”

“I can hear your hearts beating from here. What’s wrong?” Yaz asks again, shifting until her head is buried against the Doctor's shoulder. The blond blinks once, staring at the other woman. She can only see messy brown hair pressed against her collarbone from that angle, and the absence of eye contact helps her voice her worries.

“Just... She’s gone.”

Yaz frowns in confusion. The Doctor can only be talking about the TARDIS, but they’ve already established that the ship isn’t dead.

“The TARDIS is still alive. Do you want to go see her?" It's the middle of the night, and Yaz really hopes the alien is not about to take her up on that offer, since going back outside would involve leaving the comfortable warmth of the Doctor's arms.

Yaz's attempt at easing her concerns draws a tight smile from the Time Lord. She moves her free hand towards the dark haired woman's head, gently cupping her cheek and rubbing her thumb against her temple.

“Gone from here.”

“You can’t sleep because the TARDIS is gone from your head.” Yaz puts the pieces together, slowly.

“Yes.”

When the Doctor offers no further explanation, Yaz hesitates. She’s still confused by the close relationship between the TARDIS and her pilot, but she figures it must be close to the human definition of friendship. Losing a mate suddenly sounds painful, but she can't imagine the impact of a broken telepathic connection.

Moving on the couch to adjust their positions, Yaz picks up on a strange heat radiating from her friend’s body. She knows the Doctor runs colder than humans - the alien shared that information after they spent long minutes trying to warm her up in Lancashire - yet it almost feels like the blond has a fever when Yaz presses the back of her hand to her forehead.

The younger woman slides her palm down, tangling her fingers with the Doctor's and frowns when she notices the clammy skin under hers. She had no idea the blond could sweat.

“Doctor?” No answer, and Yaz straightens her back until they're sitting far enough to properly face each other. “Are you all right?”

“‘course.” The automatic answer is not particularly convincing, as Yaz struggles to meet the Doctor's elusive gaze.

“Can you look at me?”

The Doctor throws a sideways glance in her direction, before letting her eyes wander across the room again. The design of the small space took seconds to register into her memory, but the movement helps with the restlessness.

“I think you’re having a panic attack.” Yaz’s voice cuts through her foggy thoughts, and the Doctor tilts her head as she considers the suggestion.

“Is it what it’s called? Thought I was getting sick, but it might explain why I can hear my hearts through my head.”

“Have you had one before?” Yaz asks, grateful that the Doctor is still coherent enough to hold a conversation. From what she can observe, the symptoms are similar to what Yaz experienced growing up, but the human tended to isolate herself during panic attacks, which made it very hard for anyone she wasn’t intimately familiar with to help.

“I don’t think so.” The Doctor’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, and she turns to observe Yaz quietly. “I don’t like it. What do I do?”

The shakiness in her voice makes Yaz’s heart squeeze painfully in her chest. She remembers what it's like to be lost among your own thoughts, stuck somewhere between a fear that seems so real, and the rational understanding that there's nothing to be scared of.

There's a familiar torn shadow in the Doctor's eyes, and Yaz forces herself to stay calm. She remembers coming home in the midst of a panic attack when she was a teenager - the consequences of a day of bullying at school - and the familiar four walls of her flat felt like a safe haven. Sonya was too young, but the adults surrounding her radiated a steady, reliable force that never failed to calm the storm in her head...

The memory draws a quiet gasp from Yaz, as she sense her thoughts clicking together. In losing the TARDIS, the Doctor didn't only lose a friend. She lost her home.

“You keep talking to me. Not everyone reacts the same, I need to know how to help you.” Yaz hesitates, the vague memory of her own therapist guiding her actions. “Can you do that?”

“Don’t think talking is ever going to be a problem for me, Yaz.”

“All right. What about touching? Do you want me to give your some space?” Yaz offers, aware that some people can’t handle any kind of physical contact. It was never her case, hugs used to be the fastest way to get her out of her own head, especially Najia’s hugs.

The mental image sends a wave of longing through her mind - her mum would know what to do - but before she has time to dwell on the sadness, she feels the Doctor's hands fist into her jacket.

“No!”

Yaz can’t help her small smile as she adjusts their positions on the couch, until she’s holding the Doctor in a loose hug. The blond head falls against her chest, and she slowly trails her fingertips up and down the taller woman’s spine. The soft touch seems to help, as the Time Lord rolls on her side, offering the rest of her back to Yaz’s gentle hand.

“You like that?”

“It’s nice. Don’t have to think about my hearts when you do that.”

Yaz uses her free hand to trace her thumb along the Doctor's jawline, drawing her chin up until their gazes lock. "Tell me if there's anything more I can do."

The usual "I'll be fine" answer is at the tip of her tongue, but the Time Lord bites it back, while they stare at each other in silence. Something passes between them, a mute agreement of sort, before the Doctor forces the honest answer through gritted teeth.

"I'm scared."

Yaz offers a simple hum in answer, ignoring the sympathetic squeeze in her chest as she desperately tries to recall more of her therapist's tips. The patient woman often told her to picture a safe place, somewhere that could protect her from the dark scenarios flowing through her mind. Yaz doubts she can simply apply that advice - chances are, the Doctor's safe place _is_ her ship - but maybe she could keep the gist of it.

"Can you tell me about her?"

"About the TARDIS?"

Yaz nods, and the Doctor catches the movement from the corner of her eye.

"Well, you saw the control room. That's all superficial damage though, the real problem is with th..."

"Nah, that can wait for tomorrow." Yaz cuts off the explanation. "Tell me something good."

The Doctor falls quiet at the request, intrigued. She's not sure what Yaz is looking for, she's been living on board long enough to know about the ship's ever changing interior. The human even fell upon the old control rooms during her explorations, coming back from that particular adventure with one of the TARDIS' round thing and a wide grin.

"I've met her." The words are out of the Doctor's mouth before her brain can catch up, but it seems to be the right thing to say, judging by Yaz's curious frown.

"You what?"

"Met her. But she was weird, she bit me."

"Bi... Your ship bit you." Yaz repeats, in utter confusion.

"She was inside a woman!" The Doctor justifies, and Yaz chuckles.

"You skipped over that part. That story was a bit mad, even for you."

"She said that too." The Doctor gives a wistful smile as the memory of Idris fleshes out in her mind. "She was very rude, kept insisting that she stole me."

"How's that even possible?"

"She wanted to see the universe, so she stole a Ti... A pilot. Or so she says." The Doctor shrugs. "That's when she told me she got a mad one."

"Well, she wasn't wrong." Yaz points out, noting how the Doctor's breathing seems to be slowly calming down with the more regular puffs of air warming the side of her neck.

"Oi! Don't side with her, she wasn't eve..."

"I don't mind, I like it." Yaz interrupts, and her eyes widen at the unexpected confession. She chooses to trudge through the frozen silence, stumbling for words. "Right. It... might explain why she never listens to you."

"I asked her about that. She told me she takes me where I need to go, not where I want to go." The Doctor sighs, closing her eyes as she's reminded of their predicament. "But why here? And why now? She had to know she couldn't make it through that sort of cold." She falls silent, considering her own sentence. "I need her, Yaz. She's all I've got."

"That's not true. You've got m... Us. You've got us." One awkward confession a day is enough, Yaz decides. "Maybe..." She trails off, gathering her limited knowledge of the ship's personality. "Maybe she didn't know it would be so cold."

A doubtful hum answers her, and the younger woman resists the urge to roll her eyes. She's beginning to grasp the depth of the relationship between the alien and the TARDIS, but it doesn't justify the blind faith the Doctor places in her ship.

"Maybe you'll understand why she brought us here later." Yaz tries again.

And that, the Doctor has to admit, is very possible. She'll have to decide later if the reason is worth the heartache of temporarily losing their telepathic connection, but there has to be an explanation for the TARDIS' stranding them on a frozen planet, stuck in the middle of a fixed era in time.

"You're right." The Doctor whispers, closing her eyes.

Yaz can feel the thundering of the Doctor's hearts under the hand she has pressed over the blond's collarbone, smiling when the quick rhythm slows down a touch. Carefully keeping her own breathing deep and regular, Yaz uses her free hand to draw soothing circles along her friend's spine. The Doctor hums in contentment, drawing a quiet chuckle out of the younger woman.

"You look like you're feeling better." Yaz eventually disturbs the peaceful moment, when the tension from their position on the narrow couch sends a painful wave up her back.

"I'll be fine." The returned steadiness in her friend's voice is reassuring, and Yaz slowly loosens her hold on the Doctor's body.

"Fine enough to move from here? There's a bedroom next door."

"There's more than one room?" The glimmer of excitement lighting up her hazel eyes is familiar, and Yaz grins in answer, nodding. "Show me."

***************

Yaz carefully settles into the hammock, hands gripping the thin fabric as she shifts her weight to the center of the bed. The Doctor is fiddling with the heating system - or what she claims is a heating system, it looks more like a regular oven to the human - as Yaz tries to find a comfortable sleeping position while she waits for the blond.

The Doctor looked unfazed when she noticed the lone bed, and Yaz decided to go along with her attitude. They're friends, there's no need for one of them to sleep on the cramped couch, when there's more than enough place for two. Sharing a bed with the woman she has a crush on is nothing Yaz can't handle. Probably.

"I don't understand why they didn't make a normal bed." Yaz complains, as the Time Lord enters the bedroom.

"With what?" The Doctor replies, discarding her coat on the bedside table.

"A mattress, and a bed frame, and pill..." Yaz pauses, watching as the alien approaches the bed in her usual attire. "Take your suspenders off."

"Why are you always trying to get me out of my clothes?"

The question sends a warm flush to Yaz's face, and the younger woman has never been more grateful for her dark skin. It's harder to notice when she blushes, and there's no way the Doctor can tell in the dimmed starlight coming through the door.

"You can't sleep with suspenders on."

"Humans always have the weirdest rules." The Doctor mutters, drawing a silent laugh out of Yaz. The woman is definitely feeling better, if she's back to complaining about the human race.

"Hm. Better get used to it, you're outnumbered."

"I'll live." The answer comes with a jostle of the hammock as the Doctor lays down on the unstable surface, sending Yaz scrambling to move off to the side

Her efforts are useless, and they end up with their arms pressed together, from shoulder to wrist. "A moving bed! This is going to be fun, don't know what you were complaining about."

Yaz struggles to ignore the contact, focusing on the conversation instead. "Normal beds are better. With a real mattress, and a bed fr..."

"A bed frame and pillows." The Doctor interrupts, gently challenging. "How would you make all that though?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's the Ice Age, Yaz. They're burning most of the woods. The only metal left is from remains of their civilization, and they use most animals as either food or clothes."

Yaz sighs. She never considered the reality of living on a planet where every useful resource is frozen. The cold is not much of a problem, she's sure time will help her body adapt to the new climate.

Sleeping on a hammock suspended over nothing, with the thin fabric moving every time she turns might be more of a challenge. Yaz's neck is already aching from her nap, and she can feel the upcoming tension from the awkward position.

"Are you all right?" The Doctor asks, after a moment spent observing Yaz's deepening frown.

"How am I supposed to sleep? My neck already hurts."

"Well you'll be sore for a while, but your body will get used to it." The Doctor answers, tucking one of her arm under her own head. It's not exactly a pillow, but it will do. She has no intention of sleeping anyway, she just wants to keep an eye Yaz. "Always does" She adds, with a shrug.

Another sigh, louder this time as the younger woman shuffles in search of a more comfortable position.

"Yaz?"

"Hm?"

"Come here." Yaz feels an arm wrap around her shoulders and tug gently, but she hesitates.

"You sure?"

"Didn't make me take my suspenders off for nothing. Come here."

Yaz gulps, moving with the Doctor's grip until her head is resting on the woman's shoulder. Wiggling an arm between them, she shifts her weight on the opposite side, struggling to maintain the distance between their bodies with a resentful thought towards whoever decided that pillows were unnecessary.

Yaz knows they spent the last hour huddled together on the couch, but somehow this feels different. More meaningful. There is no panic attack to calm and nobody to warm up, it would simply be... Snuggling.

Not that Yaz would mind snuggling with the Doctor for no specific reason, but the woman sparingly allows physical contact. The human refuses to pressure her friend into a situation she wouldn't be entirely comfortable in, not after the evening they had.

They spend a few minutes in the awkward position, until the Time Lord notices the tension in Yaz's arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Are you all right?" Yaz fires back, drawing a frown from the Doctor.

"Of course. I'm not the one fighting against the moving bed." She points out. "And gravity." The blond emphasizes her argument with a push against the wall, making the hammock swing.

The movement dislodges Yaz's grip, and she ends up laying on her stomach, half of her body resting against the Doctor and her face pressed into her shoulder.

"I was just trying..." The dark haired woman mumbles, before putting the smallest distance between them, enough to make eye contact. "You're not a hugger. Usually."

The Doctor ponders the words, pursing her lips with a little hum. "Know what, Yaz?" She asks, not waiting for an answer. "I think I'm a hugging sort of person again."

The declaration doesn't make much sense to Yaz, but the Doctor's pleased smile is enough of a reassurance. She closes her eyes and buries her face against the blond's neck, feeling the Doctor's lips brush against her forehead with a little grin.

Maybe the next few months wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this story a lot, and what was initially a fun little idea took a turn I didn't expect. I sort of want to see it through now (as in, bringing Team TARDIS back home and letting the Doctor/Yaz figure themselves out). Would anyone be interested in reading more?


	4. Day 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was completely speechless when I saw all the comments, so let me start with a big thank you to everyone! As you can see, I've decided to keep going with this story, and you’re all part of that!! I even got an outline for where I want to take this :-D. 
> 
> I haven't planned out all the details yet, but expect around 8 chapters.
> 
> Part 4 is a bit shorter than the others, but it was definitely my favorite to write so far! I hope everyone enjoys :-)

"We need an intervention."

Ryan's words snap Yaz out of her sleepy musings halfway through her breakfast. The younger man slides in the seat next to hers, leaving the opposite side of the table to Graham who's carrying their shared food tray.

"What?"

"An intervention." Ryan repeats, slowly. "You know, that thing people do when someone has an addiction?"

Yaz blinks at him with a deepening frown. She's nowhere near awake enough to understand what he's going on about, and she glances at Graham for help. The older man replies with a serious look over his cup of tea.

"He's not wrong. His plan doesn't make sense, but you should listen."

With a long sigh, Yaz gives her attention back to Ryan. "Who's addicted to what?"

"The Doctor is addicted to the TARDIS. Granddad, when's the last time you saw her?"

"She came by last week. Something about having a look at our solar panels." He shrugs. "I don't know what she did, but my tomatoes have been growing twice as fast since then." The Environmental team Graham joined turned out to be in charge of the camp's greenhouses, to the older man's delight.

"Right. And I haven't seen her since that time we bumped into each other when I was going to work." He pauses, dramatically. "Last week." Ryan turns an earnest gaze towards Yaz. 

"What? I see her every day, we're flatmates." The police officer reminds him..

"Only flatmates?" Ryan asks, with a knowing smile that draws a groan out of Yaz.

"Yes, Ryan. And I'm still waiting for you to make sense."

"We haven't seen the Doctor in almost three weeks is what I'm saying." He answers, throwing his hands in the air impatiently. "So, either we move in with you..." Yaz offers a warning glare at his teasing, and he smirks back. "Or we organize an intervention."

"That's the most rubbish pla..."

"I know I'm going to sound like an old man now, but have you tried talking to her?" Graham interrupts, poking at a piece of unrecognizable meat with his fork. "In a normal conversation? We don't need to all be there."

"When?" Ryan replies. "I never see the Doctor, it's what we're talking about."

"Well, you know where the TARDIS is. Go visit while she's working, and just say you miss her."

"I... What? You said you missed her first." The younger man protests, and Graham shrugs in begrudging approval. "Then why do I have to be the one walking all the way to th..."

"Because I'm too old for all the climbing."

"I only have two days off, I'm not wasting one getting lost on a mountain. Yaz can talk to the Doctor, if nobody likes my plan." Ryan says, folding his arms over his chest.

"No, I can't. It's your idea, why do you want me to do all th..." Yaz abruptly interrupts herself. Not only are they attracting the crowd's attention with their early morning bickering, but she's running late for her shift. "All right. You're not wrong. She spends all day working on the TARDIS, comes back in the middle of the night, and she's gone again by the time I wake up. We have to do something." 

"See? I knew you would agr..."

"Your plan needs work, we're not having an intervention." Yaz pauses, spotting her work partner from the corner of her eyes. The man is heading towards their table with a friendly wave. "Why don't you come over tonight? We can talk." 

Ryan and Graham nods, and Yaz throws the apple left on her tray to the older man. "There. You won't have to bring a sandwich into work." She ignores his halfhearted protest, leaving the table with a chuckle.

***************

Yaz slowly wanders down the alley leading to her igloo, shifting her tense shoulders under her winter coat. Her work day has been longer than anticipated, after the night shift discovered an old man laying unconscious in the middle of the dining hall. There is no way to tell what happened to him - no sign of physical assault or history of illness - but he was stuck somewhere between life and death in the camp's medical tent.

The curious event brought a long debate between officers, as they struggled to figure out how much information should be shared with the public. After calling the man in charge of the village's security - a white haired Calistan named Hector - they settled on excusing the incident as an unpredictable health issue. 

Yaz only met Hector once before today, when they shared lunch on her first week of work. They discussed the security department's organization, and to the dark haired woman's surprise, he implemented most of her suggestions. Hector handed her the title of captain on that same day, putting her in charge of every officers working the day shift, before pairing her with the youngest rookie on the team. 

Yaz is still struck with a vague sense of disbelief every time she catches a glimpse of the insignia pinned on the lapel of her coat. Fiddling with the pin as her feet guide her home, she keeps her gaze firmly lowered to the ground in an attempt to keep herself from being recognized. Despite the harmless public account of the incident, a good amount of people interrupted her regular patrol route with concerned questions. 

Yaz kept her senses on alert all day, wary of what really happened to make a healthy old man fall into a coma. Her partner noticed, and she tried explaining herself to the young man - a tall, quiet officer with gentle brown eyes and a square jaw - only for Byram to point out that the camp is filled with refugees. Nobody would willingly cause trouble, at the risk of being thrown into the wilderness of winter. Yaz was forced to concede his point, especially after they spent the afternoon working outside of the village's gate, to repair part of the fence that crumbled over the weight of snow. The physical work was exhausting, but it was the icy wind that was still sending residual shivers through her spine. 

Groaning at the memory, she sighs in relief when she finds herself facing their temporary home, opening the door leading to a quiet night in. 

Or not. 

Taking a step into their assigned shelter, she spots Ryan and Graham sitting on the couch, deep into a game of cards she doesn't recognize. They turn towards the entrance as she closes the door behind her.

"You're late." Ryan points out, and Yaz grunts as she gets rid of her keys, gloves and winter hat.

"Are you all right?" Graham frowns.

"Long day." Yaz drags a chair closer to the sofa, spinning it backwards and crossing her arms over the backrest as she sits. "I forgot about your intervention." With an amused look in Ryan’s direction, she rests her chin against her folded arms. "What's your plan?"

***************

Yaz is still struggling to understand the rules of the game Ryan brought home from work - supposedly a very popular one on Sinda Calista - when Graham's turn is interrupted by the noise of a door slamming opened.

"Have you seen the boys? I got Ryan's laptop, and they're not even in. How am..." The Doctor trails off, glancing around the room and spotting the two men on the couch. "Oh, hello." She throws the computer to Ryan, who scrambles to catch it before the impact with the ground. "For you. Your room is even more of a mess than mine."

"You have a room?" Graham repeats, surprised.

"Probably. I used to have one." She shrugs, discarding her coat against the empty shelf. "Need anything else from the TARDIS?"

The Doctor's regular trips to the ship are her companions' only chances to retrieve the belongings they brought on board, since the powered down TARDIS is too cold for them to wander inside. The three humans give identical head shakes, and the blond pad to the unoccupied chair in the corner of the room. She falls into it, crossing her arms over her chest as she notices the attention shifting to her. 

"What? Have I done something weird again?" 

The rest of the group exchange glances, before Graham elbows Ryan and the younger man stands. Yaz sinks back into her seat, eager to see how the conversation is going to unfold. Convincing Ryan to abandon his idea of an intervention was fairly easy, between his granddad's eye rolls and Yaz's rational arguments. They did admit that a discussion was necessary, with the Doctor accidentally ignoring Ryan and Graham since crashing on the small planet. 

"We've all gathered here today to dis..." Ryan starts. 

"What is this, a wedding?" Graham cuts off. 

"Do you want to go first?" The older man holds up his hands in surrender at the glare thrown in his direction, while Ryan clears his throat. "I was saying. We have some important matters to attend." 

"Why are you talking like that?" Graham interrupts, and Ryan frowns.

"What?" 

"'Matters to attend'. You never say that, just talk normally." 

"All right. You can do it." Ryan counters, falling back into the couch with another glare. 

"That's fine, I’ve got this." He turns to the Doctor, shifting his weight to the edge of the sofa. "So, Doc. What Ryan was trying to say is that you... I mean, we... Hm..." He trails off, Ryan letting out a satisfied noise. 

"See? It's not that easy." 

The Doctor interrupts their bickering. "I’m really confused." 

Yaz was watching the alien's reaction from the corner of her eyes, chuckling when she spotted the Doctor's frown and scrunched face, her eyes travelling between both men. The woman obviously has no idea what Ryan and Graham are struggling to tell her.

"They miss you." Yaz clarifies, feeling her friends' attention shift to her. "You're spending too much time on your ship, and not enough with us."

"They..." The Doctor pauses, genuinely puzzled. Humans missing her is not something that ever happened before - one of the perks of having a time ship - and she's not quite sure how to handle the situation. "What about you?"

"I see you every day." The younger woman shrugs, with a smile. "But we've been stuck here for three weeks, and it's the first time we spend all together. I miss that."

"You always call us your fam..." Graham speaks up, tentatively. "That means we're going to miss you when you're not around." 

"He's right, Doctor. We can't be a proper family without you." Ryan adds.

The Time Lord glances at her friends, struggling to wrap her mind around what they're saying.

"Right. You want me to..." She trails off, her questioning gaze shifting between Graham and his grandson.

"Spend more time with us. You don't have to work on the TARDIS every minute of every day." 

An awkward silence lingers over the room, as the Doctor ponders the odd request. Cutting off the hours spent repairing the TARDIS means they’ll be stranded on Sinda Calista longer, away from Earth and away from Yaz’s family. Her decision will have to wait until she can ask for the younger woman's opinion, for now...

"I'll try." The Doctor says, letting her eyes fall to the cards piled up between Ryan and Graham. "Oh, a game. Can I play?" 

***************

"Could have just asked me."

"What?" Yaz frowns, confused by the offhand remark as they get ready for bed. Ryan and Graham headed back home a few minutes earlier, when the younger man interrupted their game with a long yawn.

"Just... That talk was a bit odd." The Doctor replies, with a shrug. "And there's not much I wouldn't do, if you asked."

The casual admission makes Yaz's breath catch in her throat. She knows the Doctor won't elaborate on the feelings behind her statement, not without adding some sort of half serious joke to it, but it does nothing to quell the surge of warm affection flowing through her. Deciding to not press the issue, Yaz approaches the Time Lord and squeezes her hand in silence, drawing a little smile from her friend.

"Same for me." She adds, and their gazes lock for a moment before the younger woman lets her eyes drop to the floor. There's a quiet intensity in the Doctor's eyes - a now familiar spark that meant the alien's attention is completely focused on her - and Yaz is not sure how long she can stare at it without doing something stupid. "They ambushed me over breakfast. Ryan wanted to do a proper intervention, and I convinced them to just come over."

The Doctor isn't sure what an intervention consists of, but it sounds painful. "Well, thanks for that. Boys. They're so dramatic."

"You would know." Yaz chuckles, gently elbowing the blond on her way to the bedroom. With a yawn, she slides under the comforter they managed to find in the camp's small marketplace. It's thin and not very warm, but the blanket allows the dark haired woman to sleep wearing only a tank top and pyjama pants. 

Yaz has her eyes closed, arms crossed under her head, as she lets her thoughts drift off. The noise of quiet footsteps catches her attention. The Doctor stops on the left side of the hammock, clearing her throat.

"Boots?" Yaz asks, eyes still closed.

"They're off." The Doctor rolls her eyes, staring at the younger woman in silent waiting.

"Suspenders?"

"Also off. Can I get in, boss?" Yaz grins, shuffling to the side as the Doctor complains quietly. "You forget to take off your boots once, and you never hear the end of it."

"You dragged snow everywhere. Do you realize how cold it was?" She waits until the alien is under the blanket before taking her usual spot, head settled on the Doctor's shoulder as the other woman's arms close around her. Their legs tangle, and Yaz is vaguely aware of how intimate their sleeping position would look to anyone else, dismissing the concern with barely a frown. There's no one to see them, and the sleepy conversations they share at night are by far Yaz's favorite part of the day.

"You know..." The Doctor hesitates. "If I'm here, I'm not working on the TARDIS."

Yaz lets out a quiet sigh, hearing the question hidden behind the blond's comment. "I miss Earth. You know I love my family..." She frowns, trying to make sense of the complicated emotions fighting against each other in her head. "But I don't want to waste all the time I have with you being apart. I don't want to miss my family, and miss you too."

The Doctor gives a silent nod, considering both Yaz's answer and the conversation they had with Graham and Ryan earlier. She knows she can't completely abandon the TARDIS, but there's a painful squeeze in her hearts as the younger woman reminds her of the limited amount of time they have together. "How about..." She purses her lips, giving a last thought to her idea. "I work on the TARDIS in the morning, and I get a job in the afternoon. We can all get together after work."

"You? With a job?" Yaz repeats, dubious.

"Oi! I'd be very good with a job. I could be a police officer. Fancy a new partner?" The human just laughs, and the Doctor grins back. "Maybe not."

"You're terrible with rules, Doctor."

"Why follow them, when you can ignore them? Rules are made to be broken, Yasmin Khan. Remember that. The universe was built by rule breakers."

"Hm. All I hear are excuses."

The Doctor scrunches her face in reluctant agreement. "They're good excuses though." The body nestled against hers shakes in silent laughter, and the Time Lord allows one of her hand to drift up, gently stroking Yaz's hair. The younger woman lets out a content sigh, and a comfortable silence stretches across the room as the Doctor falls quiet. "What about Ryan? Think he'd like some company at work?"

"You want to work in mechanics?"

"Why not? I'm good at engineering." She pauses. "Or I could be a teacher. I used to be a professor, but I don't think they've built universities yet."

Yaz smiles, the mental image of the Doctor trying to teach astrophysics to small children popping into her head. "You'd be great."

"Would I?" The Time Lord asks, intrigued by Yaz's easy agreement.

"If you're looking for me to stroke your ego, not happening."

"You got me." The Doctor deadpans, and Yaz smiles, fighting the tired pull dragging her towards slumber.

She never falls asleep so quickly, but the Doctor's fingers are combing through the fine hair at the back of her neck, and the soothing rhythm of the alien's hearts echoes under her ear, and she's finally warm after a day of freezing in the harsh weath... Yaz loses her train of thoughts with another yawn. 

"Long day?" The Doctor whispers, and Yaz nods sleepily. The feeling of a soft kiss dropped against her forehead is the last thing she registers before losing the fight against exhaustion.

***************

"It's awesome, you'll see. He uses smoke to make the characters in his story talk."

"What, like a ventriloquist?"

"Kind of." Ryan answers, leading the way to the campfire site. He spent his second day off with the Doctor, since the woman is scheduled to join his mechanics crew on the next day. They accidentally missed dinner, getting lost in the alien’s attempt at explaining how the TARDIS’ engine works. Ryan texted a warning to Yaz and Graham, and the group agreed to meet for the evening's fire.

Campfires are a tradition on Sinda Calista, initially created for children but attracting a growing number of people since the village's elder debuted his extraordinary method of storytelling. 

"It's way cooler though. He made up a battle last week, with hundreds of little smokey soldiers." The blond scrunches her nose, offering no reply until Ryan chuckles. "Yeah, didn't think you’d like that. But most of his stories are just fun adventures for kids, you know."

"Sounds fun." The Doctor shrugs, looking around as they approach the crowd gathered around the fire. She spots Yaz and Graham, both sitting on logs on the ground. Graham notices their arrival and waves, but Yaz is too absorbed in her conversation with a dark haired man the Doctor has never met.

"They work together." Ryan offers, following her gaze. The Time Lord frowns at that, and the human hesitates, biting his lip. "I think he fancies her." He finishes, deciding that maybe all the Doctor needed is a gentle shove to sort out her relationship with Yaz. 

"Does he?" The blond’s frown deepens, and Ryan clears his throat to hide his smile. "Come on."

***************

"Can I sit here?"

"Ah..." Yaz trails off, with a quiet sigh. Byram is a nice man, funny and always respectful. He's her partner at work, and there's a bit of hero worship in the way he looks at her. It's a complete contrast to how her coworkers treated her back on Earth, and she's made a conscious effort to put him in charge of important parts of the job. 

Her interactions with Byram took an odd turn over the last few days, and she suspects that his feelings are starting to grow past the boundary of friendship. Having that awkward talk is the last thing she wants, the man is one of her best mate on the security team. She's grasping for a gentle way to let him down when their discussion is interrupted. 

"Seat is taken. Sorry. There are still good places on the other side though." The Doctor says, and Yaz muffles a grin against the palm of her hand when the blond meets her eyes in a silent apology. "We're late."

"Yes. I noticed." Yaz offers, before tilting her head to look at her coworker. "Sorry, Byram. We had plans already."

"No problem." He quickly shakes off his disappointment. "I'll see you at work." With an awkward half wave, he leaves in search of one of the few empty seats left.

"Byram. What sort of name is that?" The Doctor mumbles, and Yaz's jaw slack. "It's a cat's name, that's what it is. If I had a cat, I'd name him Byram."

"Don't be rude, he's my friend." The dark haired woman protests, with an intrigued frown. 

"Fine." The Time Lord sighs, before mumbling under her breath. "Your mate has a cat's name."

"I heard that." Yaz challenges, leaning in to bump her shoulder against the Doctor’s. "I work with him. Be nice."

"All right." The Doctor agrees, reluctantly. "Sorry, we got caught up. Ryan started asking about the TARDIS' engine."

"We had to fight half of the crowd to keep the seats for you." Yaz replies, pointing to the spot now occupied by Ryan on the other side of her. "That's why Byram came over, to help."

"What would we do without him?" 

Yaz is caught off guard by the dry answer. The Doctor notices the odd look as she glances sideways, her gaze getting caught by softened brown eyes.

"You know you have no reason to be jealous, right?" Yaz says, aware of the double meaning behind her words. She offers no further explanation, content to let her question stands as both a reminder to the Doctor that they're not in a proper relationship, and that Yaz has no interest in anyone else.

The Doctor sighs, and the forced proximity of the narrow log allows Yaz to feel her body tense. The alien runs a hand down her face with a halfhearted smile.

“Right.” She whispers.

The sad expression pulls at Yaz’s heart, and she drops her head against the Doctor’s shoulder circling the blond’s elbow with her hands. Yaz watches from the corner of her eyes as the gentle affection turns her friend’s smile more sincere, and she grins in satisfaction. They sit in silence for a few minutes, watching the fire as the crowd settles, eagerly waiting for the story teller.

An old man finally emerges from the shadows, slowly circling the fire pit as he glances around the snowy space.

"That's Hector. He's my boss." Yaz whispers against the Doctor's ear. "Not that we really see him, but he's responsible for camp's security."

The Time Lord frowns. "Isn't he... Too old?"

"I'm not sure. He looks old, but wait until you've seen him tell one of his stories. It's magic." She pauses, as Hector drops his cane against the ground. "And he listens to what I have to say at work."

The Doctor smiles, tilting her head closer. “Clever man. Is that why you like him?"

"Shut up. I'm no..." The crowd surrounding them cuts her answer short, shushing her into silence. She offers an apologetic smile, before burying her head into the Doctor's neck. Her lips brush against the cold skin as she gets the last words in. "You are trouble."

The Time Lord lowers her head to establish eye contact, before offering a brilliant grin and a wink, making the human’s heartbeat quicken. 

Yaz gulps, turning her attention back towards Hector who's hopping around the fire as his hands shape the smoke into two lively figures.

The Doctor follows her gaze, frowning as she catches sight of the characters. The arm she has wrapped around Yaz's shoulders tightens in reflex when recognition sinks in. 

The dark haired woman yawns, tucking herself closer into her friend's side and closing her eyes as she allows the deep voice of Hector to transport her into another world.

Yaz misses the unreadable shadow traveling through hazel eyes, as the unmistakable shape of a smokey Ood starts singing the tale of his people's liberation from slavery, by two travelers who remain unknown to this day.


	5. Day 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start off by saying that I lost count of how many times I re-wrote this chapter. I'm still not sure about the end product (The 13th Doctor having a serious conversation is incredibly difficult to write, with series 11’s poor writing/character development), but this is as good as it's going to get. I'm happy with how Yaz comes off though. 
> 
> I hope everyone still enjoys part 5, but feel free to leave criticism if you didn't :-). It's always helpful!

"Careful!" Yaz exclaims, as she uses her arm to keep the food on her tray from being covered in snow. The clumsy child responsible for the commotion falls from his snowboard, sliding to the ground with an apologetic wave, before making his way to his family's table. 

"That's a new one." Byram remarks. "They usually get off their boards to eat." 

Yaz doesn't answer, brushing the snow away from the table with the ghost of a smile. Snowboarding is a new trend in the village, ever since a certain blond alien came tumbling down the mountain with her feet strapped to a blue piece of metal. Barely a day later, word spread among the camp's youngest residents, compelling the Doctor to ask for Ryan’s help as they threw themselves into mass production of boards.

The new mean of transport isn't much of a problem during the day, but at night, when the only sources of light are the moon and a few torches attached to the fence surrounding the camp, snowboarders turn into invisible missiles that already caused a few minor incidents. The latest one - a five year old barreling through one of the marketplace's stand - forced Yaz to bring up the potential risk to the Doctor, who offered a sheepish smile in answer ("But it's so much faster than walking, Yaz.") 

The alien begrudgingly put a stop to their little entreprise, warning Ryan over breakfast on the next day. His initial disappointment quickly vanished, replaced by an excited smile as he asked if they could "At least work on the other thing". The Doctor agreed, Graham decided that he really didn't need to know about their new project, and Yaz wondered - not for the first time - if leaving Ryan and the Doctor together in a workshop was such a good idea. 

Probably not, she acknowledges to herself as Byram starts telling her about his last memory of summer on Sinda Calista. Yaz nods in answer, uncharacteristically distracted. Her friend is a gifted storyteller, but his presence is not enough to shake off the odd mood plaguing her thoughts throughout the day.

Yaz noticed something wrong before even blinking her eyes opened this morning. She was alone, which wasn’t unusual with the Doctor’s habit of leaving for the TARDIS hours before Yaz's shift begins. The dark haired woman found herself wishing for her friend's company as she went through her morning routine. 

Work did nothing to improve her state of mind. A harmless dispute over a stolen hat turned into a brawl, forcing Yaz to call for backup after a proper fight broke out. She escaped the scene with only a few scrapes, the results of a dive to avoid a tall man stumbling out of a tent, after the shouting forced him awake. 

The day shift ended with seven people arrested, a completely useless hat destroyed in the brawl, and more paperwork than Yaz ever had to fill while working as a probationer on Earth. Making her way to the dining hall, she received a text from Ryan explaining that he was stuck at work with the Doctor. Graham was nowhere to be seen, leaving her in the company of a blooming headache and her overexcited coworker, who spotted her seconds after she put her food tray together. 

"Yaz?" The younger woman is brought back to the present, raising her head and aiming a small smile at Byram. "How are you doing?" 

"I'm fine." The man offers a doubtful look, glancing between Yaz and the fork she uses to distractedly push her food around while he was talking. "I'm just not hungry. Long day, you know."

"Tell me about it. At least the night shift didn't find anyone today." 

Yaz nods, her thoughts drifting off to the three men that were found unconscious in different parts of the camp over the last few weeks. There were a few similarities between the victims: no apparent injuries, they were all in excellent health except for their advanced age, and they were found at night in remote places that seemed to be randomly chosen. Whispers of the incidents being connected were beginning to travel over camp, troubling the previously friendly atmosphere bounding people together. 

Biting her lip, Yaz decides to take Byram on a tour of the victim's families on their next shift. They could offer their support and search for a link between the victims. 

"... was so weird. I've never seen people get angry over a hat. How you ducked out of the way when Kili fell was amazing though, I thought he was going to squish you." 

"Me too." Yaz chuckles, remembering the split second where the wobbling man towered over her, before she dived to his left. 

"But since we don't work tomorrow. I've been thinking... Maybe we could..." The younger man trails off, leaving an awkward silence to linger over the table. 

Yaz freezes, recognizing the awkward way Byram stumbles over his words whenever he suggests they meet outside of work. The dark haired woman has managed to deflect most of his invitations so far, but she doesn't have the mental energy to gently turn him down today. 

"Going home." 

"What?" Byram frowns, tilting his head in confusion. 

"I'm going home, sorry. I'm exhausted. See you tomorrow." 

Leaving the table with a last glance over her shoulder, she catches his disappointed wave goodbye and answers with a small smile. 

Yaz frowns, realizing that a conversation with her coworker is overdue. Byram's crush is only growing, and she needs to put an end to the situation before their work is affected. The train of thoughts is doing nothing to lighten Yaz's somber mood, and she leaves the dining hall with a long sigh. 

***************

"Yaz?" 

Her own name brings the police officer out of her head for the second time in the same evening, drawing her eyes up as she glances around. Her feet guided her to the entrance of Ryan and Graham's shelter, and she gently closes the door behind her as she steps forwards. 

The two men are huddled together on the couch over Ryan's laptop, mirroring grins brightening their faces as they turn to face the dark haired woman. 

Making her way behind the sofa, Yaz musters a replying smile when she catches a glimpse of the screen. 

"What are you watching?" 

"Home footage, I had it saved for my YouTube channel." Ryan replies. "Oh, and the Doctor wants me to tell you, she'll be late. She forgot the Sonic on the TARDIS."

"What does she need the Sonic for? It's late, and we're no..." Yaz bites down on her disappointment when she notices Ryan's smirk, choosing to turn her attention back to the scene unfolding on the laptop. Grace and Graham are sitting together, holding hands and watching their grandson tear into the paper wrapped around a small gift. "When is that from?"

"Christmas before last. He's going to open the bike next." Graham says. "Wait for it." 

"I didn't want a bike. I was fine with walking to work."

"And now you're snowboarding." The older man answers, elbowing Ryan. "You're welcome." 

Ryan groans, rolling his eyes when Graham reaches a fist in his direction, before reluctantly humoring his granddad. "You really need to stop doing that. You're not youn..." 

"Shut it, we're missing the best part." Graham interrupts.

Yaz's eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Grace stands and pads towards the house's main door. The older woman returns after a long moment, hiding an object that’s vaguely shaped like a biking helmet behind her back. The screen freezes on that image, and the sparkle of warm affection shining in Grace's eyes makes Yaz wish she had known Ryan's nan better. 

Ryan scrambles for the laptop, searching for the next video file while Graham gives him a long look, patting his shoulder with a small smile. Ryan turns and they gaze at each other in a moment of shared nostalgia. The knowing look barely lasts a second, but it's enough for Yaz to suddenly feel like she's intruding on a very intimate part of their relationship. 

"Well, I'll leave you to it." 

"Are you sure? We can watch something else." Graham frowns.

"Yeah, I have movies that weren't even out when we left Earth. I think the Doctor put them on my laptop when she charged it." 

Ryan's voice is genuine, and Yaz manages to smile at his kind offer. Watching the bond between two of her best friends grow is heartwarming, but part of that connection is born out of shared grief over a woman she barely knew. She would never completely understand that feeling, just like nobody in her newfound family could really grasp the devastating impact being stranded has on Yaz's mental state. 

The thought brings back memories of her old life, and the dark haired woman struggles to shove them into the background of her mind. Yaz blinks before noticing two concerned pair of eyes facing her. 

"It's all right. Long day, I wouldn't make it through a movie." She gives a parting half hug to Graham, waving at Ryan. "Have a good night."

***************

Yaz leans back against the wooden door of her temporary home as it closes behind her. Her head falls against the cold surface with a muted thud, and she scans the room from the entrance. 

Padding over to the kitchen area, her eyes linger over a dark object thrown over the arm of the couch. Intrigued, she approaches the sofa and reaches for what she recognizes as her own leather jacket. 

Oddly, it's the coat that breaks the mental barrier she built to contain the anguish caused by the loss of her old life. Her fingers graze the worn out fabric, closing over the sleeve and bringing the material to her face, as she takes a deep breath. 

The familiar scent of leather transports her back to the evening after her first day at work, when Najia presented Yaz with the jacket she spent long minutes eyeing on their previous shopping trip ("You can't always wear your awful policewoman clothes"). 

The sensation of a tear slowly rolling down her cheek startles Yaz, and she touches her face in shock. Realizing that she's crying, she blinks and tries to shove away the sadness as she looks around the empty room.

The dark haired woman is hit by a pang of loneliness, strong enough to make her consider going back to the boys', before she dismisses the idea. Ryan and Graham have their own grief to deal with, Yaz’s burden is hers to carry.

Even the Doctor can't understand the impact of such a profound and sudden loss. The alien has no family left, but Yaz doubts that her friend could have lost her entire world in one day. 

Yaz's family, her friends, everyone and everything familiar she grew up with just... Vanished. The safe comfort of home was surrounding her one day, and it was gone on the next one. 

Adjusting to the camp’s routine kept Yaz busy enough to forget about their new reality, but the loss has been slowly sinking in. The permanent sadness confined to the background of her mind is growing, threatening to take over her usually reliable mental balance. 

With a deep breath, Yaz makes her way to the bedroom. Maybe she can sleep off the dark mood, everything always looks better in the light of a new day... Or so her dad used to say. 

Shimmering out of her winter coat, Yaz freezes when the phone left on her bedside table lights up with a text alert. Her background is a family photo taken on her nani's birthday, and she tilts her head as the visual representation of what she lost stares back at her. 

Swiping away the notification, she trails her fingertips around Najia's smile, catching a glimpse of Hakim's arm thrown over her own shoulders before her vision becomes too blurry to see the picture. 

Her last attempt at keeping her emotions in check crumbles against mental exhaustion, and she senses the tears flowing freely over her cheeks as memories of her family flood through her brain. 

Yaz steps back until she hits the snowy wall of the igloo, slowly falling to the floor and drawing her knees up. Her heart feels like it's breaking, and she gasps at the sharp pain blooming into her chest. She crosses her arms and buries her face into the crook of her elbows, allowing the sobs to rack through her body in the empty silence of the shelter. 

***************

"Yaz?"

The dark haired woman gasps at the sound of her name, clasping a hand over her mouth to muffle a heaving sob. She frowns, struggling to get a grip on reality as the noise of footsteps in the other room grows louder. 

"In the bedroom. I'll be right out." Yaz winces at the roughness in her voice.

Her thoughts are still stuck somewhere on Earth, halfway between a flat in Park Hill and Sheffield's police station, but she makes an attempt at composing herself. She rubs her cheeks against her bent elbow, brushing away most of the leftover tears as she blinks in the darkness. 

"Did you talk to Ryan? Sorry, I forgot the S..." The blond head peeking through the doorway freezes, as the Doctor steps closer and catches a glimpse of Yaz's reddened noise and puffy eyes. 

"What is it? What happened?" The Time Lord asks, keeping her approach slow until she's standing in front of the huddled form on the ground. 

Yaz's first instinct is to brush off the concern, pretend that everything is fine and move on. The Doctor is already doing everything in her power to bring them home, there's no need to add to her friend's guilt by breaking down in front of her. Yasmin Khan doesn't cry unless she's alone, and th... 

A flashback of Ryan and Graham huddled together over their family video interrupts that thought, and Yaz is surprised by the rush of longing hitting her. 

She wants that sort of support, even if the Doctor can't understand the depth of the loss Yaz is going through. She looks up, and the hazel eyes regarding her with a mix of patience and compassion tug at the gripping sadness crushing her heart. Maybe a bit of vulnerability wouldn't hurt, just once. 

"They're gone." Yaz whispers, in the silent room. She drops her head back against her arms, closing her eyes at the familiar sting of tears. "All of them. I'm al... Alone." 

The words are forced through the returned tightness of her throat, before she falls quiet again. Mustering the necessary energy to explain herself seems like an impossible task, until Yaz's efforts are interrupted by a hand touching her knee. The contact draws the younger woman's head up, and exhausted brown eyes lock with the Doctor's. 

"Hello." The Time Lord keeps her voice quiet, offering a gentle smile. "Want some company? Being alone is rubbish." 

The soft, answering whine pulls at the Doctor's hearts, before Yaz reaches out and grips into her coat, yanking her closer. 

The blond shuffles awkwardly on the ground, resting her back against the wall before finding her lap full of a sobbing human. Wrapping her arms around shaking shoulders, the alien feels Yaz's head nestle against her collarbone as she rests her cheek against dark hair. 

The noise of tears falling into the material of her shirt is deafening to the Time Lord, drawing a short sigh out of her chest. 

The Doctor is intimately familiar with loneliness, with the way it clings to people even when they're surrounded by loved ones. It's a sneaky feeling, insidious and hard to shake once it has a grip on you. There's no sure way to help Yaz, except by getting her back to her family and friends, which is still a few months away. 

"I'll get you home, Yaz. I promise. I know you miss your family, but..." The Doctor says, once Yaz's sobs fade into the occasional quiet tears. Pursing her lips, she considers her next words when a particular memory comes to mind. 

"But I'm with you. Whatever happens." 

A wet chuckle escapes Yaz as she chooses to focus on the echoes of her own promise. She allows her eyes to slip closed, while her thoughts slowly settle to the rhythm of the twin heartbeats under her ear. 

***************

"Sorry." Yaz clears her throat, hearing the hoarseness of her voice. Enough time has passed for the tears to dry on her cheeks, and she's growing more aware of their awkward position on the floor.

"I didn't mean to cry all over you." She slides off the Doctor's lap, putting some distance between them as she leans back against the wall. 

"It's all right." The Doctor stands, reaching a hand down to help Yaz do the same. "Come on. A cuppa will make everything better." 

Yaz sniffles, pulling on her friend’s hand before making her way to the couch. "We have nothing to make tea." 

"I'm the Doctor, Yaz. If I want tea..." She trails off, rummaging through her coat to find two teabags hidden in her pocket before hopping towards the kitchen. "Tea happens." 

The casual banter is a welcome chance for Yaz to catch her breath, and she lets her thoughts focus on the alien’s words. "You should be the Magician, not the Doctor." 

"My last face had a magician's coat. Not the look I was trying for, but he wasn't very good with fashion." 

"The Scotsman?" Yaz is starting to piece together the order of the Doctor’s regenerations, despite the woman's disjointed style of storytelling. 

"Hm." The Time Lord nods distractedly, pouring hot water into cups. "The Scotsman." 

"I don't know." Yaz answers, letting her head fall against the backrest. "That suit wasn't so bad." 

Closing her eyes, Yaz allows her mind to picture the Doctor's choice of clothing the night they met. She's brought back to reality by a warm cup pressed against her open palm. 

"It was about three sizes too big." The dark haired woman chuckles, while the Time Lord settles into the couch, scrunching her nose. "And it was torn. Don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm saying, you looked great in a suit." Yaz replies, too mentally exhausted for her mind to filter her thoughts. "Shut up and accept the compliment." 

The Doctor offers a vague salute in response, before Yaz gently bats her shoulder. She finds her hand caught by the alien, as the blond tangles their fingers together in the empty space on the couch. 

They drink their tea in silence for a moment, Yaz enjoying the comforting warmth spreading through her chest at the familiar taste. 

"Sorry." The human repeats, feeling the need to apologize again. "I usually don't break down like that." 

"I know." The Doctor replies. "I've been expecting it."

"What?" Yaz frowns. 

"You lost your entire family. You need to grieve."

"But I'll see them again, I shouldn..."

The Doctor interrupts. "You will. But you saw them one day, and the next, they were gone. Everything you've ever known, everything you grew up with... All gone. It's a shock." She pauses, staring at Yaz quietly. "I'll do my best with the landing back on Earth, but the TARDIS won't be able to materialize on the same day we left. You'll lose months, maybe years with them. It's what grief is really about, isn't it? Mourning lost time." 

Yaz freezes when her own earlier thoughts are repeated back to her, almost word for word. The knot in her chest returns, and she deliberately focuses on the warm liquid traveling down her throat as she takes another sip of tea. Enough crying for today. 

"What happened to your family?" Yaz asks, keeping her voice low. "I know you lost them, but what..." She trails off, struggling to find a gentle way to voice her question. "How?" 

"There was a war, a long time ago. They didn't make it." 

"Do you go home sometimes? To remember them?" 

"I can't."

"Why not?" 

"It's..." _Complicated._ The Doctor knows the answer won't satisfy Yaz, and she settles for something closer to the truth. "Gone too." 

"Your whole hometown? It's gone?

The Doctor gives a tight smile, shaking her head. "My planet, Yaz." 

"Your planet is gone?" Yaz repeats, confused. "How can that happen? Does it mean all of your people are gone too?" 

_Nope._ There's already guilt stirring at the pit of her stomach, and the Doctor forcefully pushes it away. That's not a discussion she's willing to have tonight - or ever, if she's honest with herself. Stewing in her own tragic past will do nothing to help Yaz deal with her grief. 

"It's a long story." The Doctor shrugs, before redirecting the conversation. "Anyway, done with your tea? There's something I want to show you. Might help you feel better." 

"It's the middle of the night, Doctor." Yaz points out, glancing at the night sky through the roof window. 

"Exactly." 

***************

"Come on." The Doctor teases gently, glancing down from her spot in the pine tree Yaz is struggling to climb. "It's not even that high." 

"Not for you, maybe." Yaz grits out between clenched teeth as she pulls herself up. "Daft alien." 

“You sound like Graham.” The Doctor laughs, sliding through a couple of branches and reaching down with her right arm "Need any help?" 

The police officer looks at the offered limb, reluctantly admitting defeat when she realizes how much higher they have to climb before getting to the tree's peak. 

"Only because I'm wearing all that winter stuff."

The Time Lord nods, watching in silence as Yaz grabs her hand, before easily dragging the dark haired woman up. The next few minutes are spent climbing the rest of the tree, the Doctor keeping an eye on her friend between two reckless jumps, turning to help Yaz gets across the highest gasps.

When she reaches the last bough solid enough to support their combined weight, the Doctor moves closer to the trunk and rests her shoulder against the rough bark, letting her legs dangle in empty space. 

Yaz pulls herself up, throwing one leg on each side of the same branch as she turns her back to the blond to observe the landscape. 

The massive pine tree is bordering a small, rounded clearing hidden on the mountain where the TARDIS landed. The empty space is surrounded by furnished bushes and trees of various heights, knitted together to form a surprisingly thick barrier that cuts off the clearing from the rest of the forest. Even the nearby camp's noises are filtered off, leaving them feeling completely alone under the fading night sky. 

"Where are we? It's better be worth all the climbing." 

"Found that place on the day we landed. I don't think anyone else knows about it, but I haven't returned since then." 

"Well, I don't think anyone would go through that many trees without knowing what's behind." 

"They're missing out." The Time Lord shrugs, and a comfortable silence falls. 

Yaz shuffles, imitating the Doctor's posture with both of her legs dangling off the same side of their resting spot. The shift brings them closer together, their arms brushing with Yaz's every breath, until the blond grins and grabs her hand. "Look!" 

The glow of Sinda Calista's biggest sun emerges from the opposite side of the mountain, turning the paling night sky into an fiery display. Shades of red tangle together through the clouds, as stars progressively disappear under their eyes. 

"That's amazing." Yaz says, watching as the warm colors of the sun travels over the trees and across the clearing. 

"Not yet. Wait for the other one." 

The words are barely out of her mouth before the second sun peeks over the pine trees behind them. That one is smaller, and projects a clear yellow light that turns the cover of snow into a white sparkly blanket. 

Yaz uses her unoccupied hand to protect her eyes, watching in amazement as the two beams of sunlight meet, creating the usual orange color that brightens the sky of their temporary home planet. 

"It was beautiful. But twin suns rising... That is amazing, Yaz." 

There's nostalgic wonder in the Doctor's voice, and Yaz gets a rare glimpse into her friend's raw feelings as they gaze at each other. A somber, pained shadow is lurking into the hazel eyes facing her, before the Doctor blinks, and Yaz is left to wonder if she didn't imagine the emotion. She can't imagine how watching a double sunrise could make her friend sad.

"How did you know about the two suns? You never leave before sunrise." Yaz asks, in an attempt to shake off her own intuition.

"My planet had two suns." The Doctor answers, eyes glossing over as she remembers the never ending fields of Galifrey glistening with the early morning dew. Her memory is interrupted when Yaz's words sink in, and she frowns. "How do you know when I leave?" 

"Well..." Yaz hesitates, surprised by the question. "I don't sleep much when you're not there." She blurts out with a shrug, hoping to keep the admission casual. 

"I leave at dawn." The Doctor points out, frown deepening. "Need sunlight to find the TARDIS. How much have you been sleeping?" 

"A few hours. I get plenty of sleep, don't worry ab..."

She's cut off when the Doctor's hands gently cup her cheeks, and their gazes lock. They're close enough for their crystallized breaths to mingle, and Yaz feels her heartbeat quicken when the blond's thumb slowly trails against her cold skin. The Doctor's eyes flicker to her lips - or so Yaz thinks, it's hard to tell through the blinding sunlight - before the alien sighs and drops her head back against the tree. 

"I always worry about you.” The Doctor quietly says, letting her hands fall to her lap. “You should have told me." 

"I didn't want to be a burden. I know you're not..." Yaz pauses, hesitating on her choice of words. "I know there's a lot of your mind, with the TARDIS being gone and everything." 

"Yes. But I still have a duty of care." 

"What?" 

"I have a duty of care, to everyone I travel with." The blond repeats. 

"I don't want you to care out of obligation. That's no..." Yaz starts, before getting interrupted. 

"Humans, why is it always so compl..." The Doctor mutters, trailing off when Yaz raises an unimpressed eyebrow at her complaining. 

"It's never an obligation.” The Time Lord begins again. “I travel the universe to help. Sometimes it means not letting evil people get what they want, and it makes me a target. It turns everyone around me into targets. I protect strangers, Yaz. Do you think I wouldn't protect people close to me?" 

"I get that. But your duty of care means trying to keep us safe. It doesn't involve making sure we sleep well at night." 

"It does when it's you." The Doctor snaps sharply, and Yaz's eyes widen. "Sorry." She sighs and falls quiet, allowing an awkward silence to linger over them. 

"Why me?" Yaz asks, after pondering the Doctor's reply. 

"Do you really not know?" 

Yaz opens her mouth, snapping her jaw shut when she tries to gather her thoughts.

"Would you be here with Ryan or Graham?" The Doctor tries again, when Yaz fails to answer her initial question.

She wouldn't. Her friendship with both men is precious to Yaz, but she would never allow Ryan or Graham to walk in on her having a breakdown, not with the fear that it would affect her relationship with both men. 

They wouldn't blame her for displaying emotions, but Yaz knew that being vulnerable would bring an uncomfortable awkwardness to their interactions, at least for a little while. Realistically, Yaz would have brushed away her friends' attempts at comforting, before blaming her sadness on a bout of homesickness and carrying on with their usual banter. 

There was more to her decision than the fear of Ryan or Graham's reaction, Yaz admits to herself. She desperately needed someone’s help through the gripping loneliness earlier, and being held by the Doctor was starting to feel like home. 

Yaz freezes as her own words sink in. Realizing how she relies on the Doctor’s presence is a scary thought, one that brings up countless interrogations about the future, especially knowing they would leave Sinda Calista one day. 

The thought of _asking_ those questions is even scarier, and Yaz decides that she's happy with the steady progress of their slowly deepening friendship, forcing herself to focus back on the conversation. The Doctor is silently waiting, staring at her with searching eyes.

"Just you." Yaz whispers.

“Exactly. Just you.” The Doctor repeats, on the same tone. 

The returned words are the last ones uttered until the suns travel higher in the sky, and they make their way back to camp in a silent agreement. Walking hand in hand with the Doctor, Yaz is surprised to find her burden of grief lightened by a new glimmer of hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I need to give a bit more of the Doctor's POV before they can get together, which I'm trying to sort out for next chapter. This story was never meant to be a slow burn, but it took a life of its own...Oops :-/


	6. Day 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter!! This part comes a bit late, but I think you’ll like it... At least I hope so :-)!

"Come on, Ryan. You can do this." The young man mumbles to himself, before hitting his fist against the wooden door. With a deep breath, he shuffles his weight from one foot to the other, waiting.

“Ryan, come in.” The Doctor greets, emerging from the TARDIS with welding glasses hung around her neck. “Control room shouldn’t be too cold, I’ve been working on it.” 

Ryan tugs the hood of his winter coat off his head, before entering the blue box. He looks around, nodding when he notices the thin layer of frost still scattered around the control room. It's a marked improvement over the ice that was covering the ship's every surface last time he visited. 

"You're making progress." Ryan says, slowly climbing the steps. "How is it so warm? It's..." He pauses, correcting himself. " _She_ is still down, right?"

"Yes. But there's dormant Artron energy running through her, she would be dead otherwise. I've redirected all that energy into the control room's main circuit. It's easier to work when my hands are not frozen."

“Cool.” Ryan comments, watching as the Doctor disappears below the central console. When he realizes that the alien is not going to pop back into the room, he raises his voice. “Doctor?”

“I can hear you.” A blond head peeks from the other side of the crystal column. “Mind if I keep working while we chat?” 

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worr...”

“Good!” The Time Lord interrupts, vanishing again. “Anything you need help with, or you just wanted some company?”

“Ah, no." He pauses, awkwardly. "Well, maybe. I don’t really know if you can help." Ryan frowns, as he struggles to word his question. "Know what, maybe I should let you work and just...” 

“You’re not bothering me, Ryan. What is it?” 

“I’m not sure if there’s even something to tell... And we never talk about that sort of things, you and I. But I can’t ask granddad, he’d just laugh, and Yaz would go on about it forev...”

“Ryan, what is it?” The Doctor repeats, reappearing from under the console with ice chips scattered through her hair. “You’re starting to sound like me now.”

“Just... There’s this girl at work.”

“Ah.” The Time Lord replies, tilting her head as she mentally reviews their coworkers. "Who?"

"I don't..." He sighs, meeting sympathetic hazel eyes focused on him. "Jael." 

"She's nice." The Doctor approves, keeping her voice gentle. "But you know we won't be staying. I'm not sure how long the rest of the repairs will take, but we should be off in a couple of months." 

“I know and I don’t want a relationship. I was thinking just... Going out a couple of times. It would be nice to hang around younger people.” He interrupts himself with a grimace. “No offence. But I only know Yaz here, and you two are always together.” 

The Doctor clears her throat at his observation, finding sudden interest in the frost covering the ground in front of her boots. 

“It would be nice to date a bit, even if it's casual. I’d tell her that we’re not planning to stay, and see what she thinks.”

“All right...” The Doctor hesitates, bringing her eyes back to Ryan. “What’s wrong then? You have a plan, doesn’t look like you need help.” 

“It’s not how they do relationships here. And I don’t want to offend her with my idea.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, it's like what Byram asked Yaz. That’s how Calistans start going out with someone... Or staying in, I guess.” The words land heavily into the room, the Time Lord frowning at the new information.

“Ryan, what are you going on about?” 

The human tenses, eyes snapping to the Doctor’s. 

“She didn’t... You don’t... Oh, no.” He stops talking, but the quiet intensity in the blond's eyes compels him to fill the awkward silence. “I shouldn’t be the one to... It only happened yesterday, maybe she’ll tell you tonight.” Ryan suggests, fiddling with a loose strand on his sleeve. 

“Tell me what?” 

The sharp edge to the Doctor’s voice makes Ryan flinch, and the Time Lord forces a deep breath into her lungs. Whatever stupid Byram did, it's not Ryan's fault. 

“Right. I’ll tell you. But if Yaz tries to kill me, I'm hiding behind you.”

The Doctor’s only answer is a frustrated sigh, and Ryan decides that she deserves to know. He has no way to tell why Yaz kept that story from the Doctor, but it's certainly not because she has any interest in Byram. If anything, his friend looked exasperated by the Calistan's cluelessness, as she complained to Graham over breakfast.

“So, you know how humans start a relationship. On Sinda Cal...” He hesitates, frowning as he considers his own assumption. “Wait, you do know? Right?” 

“'Course, I do. I could write a book about the evolution of human relationships. Maybe I should. I've never written a book before, unless you count diaries, which I guess could be cons..." 

"Right." Ryan cuts off the Doctor's rambling when he sees her hands reaching for her pockets. "Sorry, I always forget you've been around. On Sinda Calista, people don't ask each other out like we do. They start a relationship by moving in together."

"Mov... What? That's quick." 

"It's what I told Yaz. And it must take ages to get all of your stuff back, when people break up."

“What does Bryan have to do with any of this?” The Doctor asks, frowning. 

“It’s Byram.”

“Is it?” 

Ryan bites his lip, struggling to contain a teasing reply. “Well, he asked Yaz to move in with him.” He trails off, gentling his voice. “I really thought she told you.”

The Doctor frowns, reviewing her last conversation with Yaz before she left in the morning. There was a distracted look in the younger woman's eyes, as she watched the boiling kettle for long minutes, turning off the heat only when the Time Lord came up behind her to size the hot water. The Doctor tried to figure out what was bothering Yaz while they sipped their tea together, but her concerns were brushed away by an unconvincing excuse about a busy day at work. Yaz was out of the door with a tight smile and a parting hug before the blond could press the matter. 

“Doctor? You know she wouldn't leave you, right?” The Time Lord hums, still lost in her own head, and Ryan awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. Well, I think I’ll just...” He falls quiet, pointing at the exit. “Be on my way. Thanks for listening.”

“Ryan?” The man stops, leaning his weight against the door as he turns to face the Doctor. “Talk to Jael. She won't be mad, she likes you.” 

The young man’s jaw slacks, and the Doctor gives a halfhearted smile before returning to the depth of the TARDIS.

***************

“I know what you’d say. And you’d be wrong. I am not sulking.” The dead silence that answers her remark draws a long sigh out of the Doctor. "Fine. Maybe I am, a bit." 

Hammering at the layer of ice covering the top of the TARDIS' heart, she brushes away the chips falling on her coat. "He's so bland. Yaz deserves better than boring, she deserves..." The Doctor trails off with a strangled protest, throwing her hands in the air. "Yes, she deserves better than me too, it's not what I'm saying. Don’t you think I know I can’t offer her anything humans want? No stability, no children, no Sunday night's dinners. I don't even have a normal flat. But does it have to be..." The Time Lord stops, resting her forehead against the ice. " _Byram._ "

The name seems to deflate the tight feeling of frustration in her chest. "He's not that bad, I just..." Running a hand down her face, she sighs quietly. "Don't want to lose her." 

She allows her thoughts to drift to the reality of losing Yaz, and her fingers tighten around the hammer. The idea of coming home to an empty shelter is unsettling, as is being left alone with Ryan and Graham in the evenings. She loves spending time with the boys, but her connection with Yaz is touching parts of her hearts that have been laying dormant for a very long time. The feelings are terrifying - in a thrilling, joyful way - and she's not ready to lose them again. 

A familiar mix of anger and sadness courses through her brain, and she growls as she looks around the room. "This is your fault. I was doing so well, not getting attached to any of them. And you decided to strand us on a planet where there's nothing to fix. Nobody needs my help here. We're just stuck together until I can get you running again. What did you think would happen?" The blond lets her hammer fall to the ground with a loud clunk, storming to the control room and out of the ship, before slamming the door behind her. 

"It's not like I could do more." The Doctor grumbles, pacing around the snowy patch of rocks where the TARDIS crashed. "I travel with three people, so they can lean on each other instead of always counting on me. I drop them back on Earth as much as possible. I didn't even tell them about..." She pauses, frowning. "Well about anything, really." 

Except Daleks. But meeting the recon scout took the choice out of her hands, forcing her into a brief explanation of who Daleks were, and how much of a threat they posed. She didn't delve into her personal history with them, sticking to general facts about what their species wanted and their capacities. The challenge of keeping her hatred for Daleks under control haunted her for a couple of days, but she managed to lock the anger away... Except for a couple of careless remarks. 

The Doctor sighs. Remarks that were all brought on by Yaz's unwavering support and her eagerness to help. The police officer was a rock through that time, forcing the Time Lord to reluctantly admit that her bond with Yaz had grown - exactly what she had so desperately tried to avoid - enough to make her reconsider her decision of staying distant from her new companions. They crashed on Sinda Calista before she could think her options through, and now...

And now, there might not be a decision to make. 

With another deep sigh, she closes her eyes and stands still for a second, feeling the cold air sips through her coat as she frowns at her own train of thoughts. "Not very helpful, is it?" 

A roar of wind carries her words away, and the Doctor lets her shoulders drop as the anger fades from her mind, replaced by sadness that has a bitterly familiar taste. She strolls through the snow until she reaches her ship, pushing against the blue doors. 

"Sorry." The Time Lord says, slowly making her way up the steps. "I don't..." She pauses, shrugging. "It's not really your fault, I was mad. You know how I get." Her fingers trail across the console, fiddling with random switches. "Should probably get back to defrosting." 

With a last pat on the dematerialization lever, the Doctor disappears under the control panel and finds the abandoned hammer on the ground. She grabs the tool with one hand, throwing her head back as she addresses the ceiling out of habit. 

"It's how it always turns out, in the end. Just you and me, old girl." 

The rest of the day is spent in heavy silence, as the Time Lord loses herself in the soothing rhythm of her hammer hitting the ice around the TARDIS' heart. 

***************

Yaz jumps off the couch when she hears the igloo's door unlock, at some point in the early hours of the morning. She spent the majority of the night rooted to her spot, hands wriggled over her knees as she struggled to keep her anxiety at bay, after realizing that the Doctor was missing.

The alien losing track of time while she works on the TARDIS is a rare occurrence, ever since their group established a daily routine. Her absence wasn't completely unexpected either, and Yaz wasn't concerned as she enjoyed the evening with Graham and an oddly fidgeting Ryan. The group met over the campfire, and watching Hector's smoke characters reenact an odd story about cursed Earth pirates and a wrecked alien ship took Yaz's mind off of her best friend. 

But when the police officer came back to an empty shelter, she paused and grabbed her phone. Nothing. Checking the other two rooms, Yaz found herself alone and began pacing across the living area, from the kitchen to the sofa and back again, as she considered her options. 

Going back to the TARDIS would only cause more trouble, with the risk of getting lost through the forest in the middle of the night. Alerting Ryan and Graham wouldn't help the situation - even if sharing her worries sounded nice - and Yaz decided to let the men sleep. There was always the night patrol, Yaz knew almost everyone working for the security department by now. But sending her coworkers on a wild chase through the night didn't seem like a good solution, especially after the Doctor insisted on keeping the ship's landing site a secret. 

Yaz sunk into the couch, resting her elbows against her knees and letting her chin rest into her hands. The only realistic course of action was to wait, and hope for the Doctor’s return. At the first sight of light, she would go find find the woman herself, if she was still missing. 

The train of thoughts left Yaz powerlessly sitting on the sofa as hours passed, and the blond gave no sign of life... 

Until now. 

"Yaz?" 

The younger woman blinks, brought out of her recent memories. "Where were you?" 

"I was working on the T..."

"In the middle of the night?" Yaz snaps. "Do you know how worried I was? I was waiting for sunrise to go find you." 

"I'm... You were... What?" The Doctor scrunches her face, and Yaz forces herself to calm down when she notices the unfamiliar stutter. 

"I was worried about you. What happened?" The dark haired woman's voice is gentler, allowing the Time Lord to gather her thoughts. Seeing Yaz waiting for her is a bit of shock, after spending the day convincing herself that she was coming back to an empty house. 

"I didn't know you'd be here." The Doctor shrugs, and Yaz frowns. 

"Where else would I be? I live here." 

"Do you?" 

"Yes. Where do you think I wou..." Yaz trails off, as she connects the odd insecurity in the Doctor's voice, Ryan's stiff behavior throughout the evening and the blond's line of questioning. "I'm going to kill Ryan." 

"Can't. He made me promise to protect him." 

"You're not always with us, are you?" Yaz mutters, and the Doctor offers a small smile. Silence lingers in the room as they quietly stare at each other. "So, you... What? Spent the day convincing yourself that I was leaving...? Or complaining to the TARDIS, even if she can't hear you?"

"No, I didn't." The Doctor protests, sighing at the raised eyebrow Yaz gives as an answer. "Not... All day. I went for a walk." If five minutes of angry pacing outside the TARDIS could be consider a walk, before returning to the mindless work of defrosting the ship.

"I turned Byram down." Yaz cuts the misunderstanding short, choosing to ignore the sting left by the Doctor's doubts. Two months of living together doesn't seem to be enough to convince her friend that she has no intention of leaving. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have." The words are out of the Doctor's mouth before she has time to process them, and she frowns at her own uncharacteristic selflessness. 

"What?" Yaz whispers, and the Time Lord's eyes widen at the sadness in her voice. "That's... You, idiot." 

The sting left in Yaz's heart turns into painful frustration, leaving the dark haired woman to wonder if the progression of their friendship isn't more one sided than she thought. Would the Doctor even miss her, if she moved out?

"Wait, wh..." The Time Lord starts, before the younger woman cuts off her question. 

"Shut up." Yaz's tone is sharp, quieting down any potential protest. "How many times do you want me to say it? I'm not going anywhere. There's one person I want to live with, and it's not Byram." 

"Then who?" The blond closes her eyes as the question slips out of her mouth. She knows she has to bring up the state of their deepening friendship to Yaz, the conclusion drawn from a full day of pondering the situation. They have to be on the same page, no matter how uncomfortable the discussion would be for the Doctor. But pushing her friend until she spills out her feelings might be one of her worse plan since that unfortunate trip to Skaro. 

Yaz's eyes snap to hers, a spark of tired anger brightening her dark brown eyes. "Seriously?" The human stands, striding to the entrance as she grabs her hat and slides her feet into her boots. "You're clever. Sort it out."

"Where are you goi..." The Doctor asks, finding her sentence cut short again. 

"To Ryan and Graham’s." She slips her coat over her shoulders, throwing a last look to the Doctor. "I'll see you tomorrow, if I don't decide to move out with the first person who ask." Yaz knows she's overreacting, but the lack of sleep and the constant avoidance of her feelings for the stubborn blond exhausted the last of her patience. She slams the door behind her, muttering about stupid aliens as she strides towards the neighboring igloo. 

***************

With a deep sigh, Yaz stops pacing in front of her temporary home. Her shift ended almost an hour ago, and she spent the last minutes wandering aimlessly around the village, avoiding their assigned shelter. Sleeping a couple of hours on Ryan and Graham's sofa as the older man prepared for work didn't help her exhausted state of mind, and she has no energy left for the upcoming confrontation with the Doctor. 

Half hoping that the alien is hiding on her ship again, Yaz takes the last few steps to the door, sliding off the lock and standing in the threshold. She glances through the living area and finds her friend sitting on the couch, too distracted to notice her presence before she speaks. 

"How's the TARDIS doing?" Yaz asks, opting for a harmless question, as she throws her heavy winter coat on the shelf. 

"Hm, not bad." The Doctor replies from her spot on the sofa, attention focused on the crackling radio in her hands. "I think she'll be ready to be powered up again soon. Then I can get a better assessment of when she'll be ready to fly."

Yaz falls into the space left on the couch, choosing to ignore both her quickened heartbeat at the thought of going home, and the way the Sonic screwdriver is pressed against their only mean of communication with the rest of the village. "That's good." 

"Yes. She's going to be cranky when she wakes up though. Should get Graham to do it."

"Graham? Why?" Yaz frowns, confused. 

"Think she has a bit of a crush on him. She's always had terrible judgement, she thought Rory was pretty." She shakes her head, incredulously. "Rory!" 

The younger woman has no idea who Rory is, but she blinks as she considers the rest of what the Doctor said. 

"On Graham? Are you sure?" 

"She doesn't speak, it's hard to tell exactly how she feels." The Doctor shrugs. "But she always picks a favorite. I would have guessed Ryan, but she likes playing pranks on him way too much." 

"It's not me then?" Yaz asks, frown deepening. 

"Course not." The Doctor quickly denies, startling when sparks fly out of the radio. She scrunches her nose and gives a disgruntled look to the object, completely missing the sharp edge in Yaz's next question. 

"Why not?" The emotional leftovers of yesterday's discussion stir up in the pit of her stomach, and Yaz pushes the frustration back into a corner of her mind. 

The talk is distracting the Doctor from her tinkering, and she sighs. Her attempt at hijacking the radio is her latest effort to keep an eye on communications around camp, since Yaz still hasn't brought up the specific causes of her trouble at work. Some of the rumors flying around the workshop are worrying and too persistent to be completely unfounded. She loses patience with her friend's questions as the Sonic slips through her fingers.

"Do you know how awkward it would be, if we had a crush on the same person?" She shakes the radio in a last attempt to get it back to life. "Almost happened once, then Captain Jack showed up again." She rolls her eyes, remembering the man's shameless flirting with every single living creature. "Stupid Ja..." The Doctor suddenly notices her friend's quiet gasp and tensed body. "Yaz?" 

"You have a crush on me." The younger woman repeats, slowly. 

"Wh..." The Doctor frowns before her own words sink in. "Oh." 

"And you have to know I fancy you. I know I'm not good at hiding how I feel." Yaz continues, blinking quickly as she turns to face the Doctor. "Why..." She trails off with a heavy sigh. "What was yesterday about then?"

"I was just trying to..." The Doctor purses her lips, slowly dropping the radio on the coffee table. "It doesn't matter. Nothing can happen between us, that's why I didn't talk to you sooner." 

The sad resignation in the blond's voice keeps Yaz surprisingly calm, as she presses the topic. "Why not?" 

"Traveling with me - as my friend - is dangerous enough. I'm not going to watch you die because I couldn't keep those stupid..." She trails off, throwing her hands up. "Stupid feelings under control." 

"What about my feelings?" Yaz points out, with a deep breath. The blond’s quick dismissal of her emotions triggers the same rush of angry frustration as the previous night. 

"You'll get over them." The Doctor spots the fiery spark lighting up Yaz's eyes, and she softens her voice as she tries to justify her reasoning. "It's too dangerous. I'm sorry." 

"Too dangerous?" Yaz repeats, incredulous. "I think you were a bloke for too long." She mumbles, drawing a confused frown out of the alien. "I don't need you to protect me from my own feelings. It's my life, my decision, and I get to decide which risk are worth taking." 

"Yaz..." 

"Shut up. It's my turn to talk. I'm a police officer. I run towards danger every day, with or without you. Of course it's safer back on Earth, but how can you even thi..." 

The Doctor's attention slips after Yaz's first sentences, as the words loop into her brain. That's something River would have said, before reminding her that the universe doesn't revolve around an old Time Lord. 

River, with whom she spent twenty-four blissfully happy years on Darillium. The woman she married. The only woman she let herself be with, without a permanent feeling of guilt weighing her down. River's reckless streak allowed her some peace of mind, with the certitude that she would find herself in the middle of the most dangerous situations - being married to a mad dictator because he had a gem stuck into his head comes to mind - _with or without the Doctor._

Yaz - wonderful, brilliant Yaz - has the same reckless streak born not out of greed, but out of her need to help people. The thought of her friend being in dangerous situations on a regular basis really shouldn’t make her so happy, but the Doctor can’t contain her slowly spreading grin. The guilt and doubts will come back - they always do - but for now it feels as if a physical weight has been lifted off her shoulders. 

"Doctor? Are you listening, I'm j..." The question is cut short by a hand cradling the side of her face and another wrapping into the collar of her shirt, tugging Yaz closer. The dark haired woman allows the movement, shuffling on the sofa until their shoulders brush against each other, knees touching and heads bent together. 

"You fancy me." 

"Yes." Yaz says, struggling to sound less flustered than she feels at their sudden proximity. 

"I have a crush on you." 

"So you said." 

"And I'm a bit of an idiot."

"Yes." Yaz replies, her voice more confident this time. 

"Want to do something about it?" 

Yaz blinks, trying to wrap her mind around the rapidly unfolding situation. Words escape her, and she settles for a frantic nod in answer. The hand bunched into her shirt flattens, pressing against her collarbone before slipping behind her neck. Fingers tangle into the fine hair, squeezing gently before pausing. 

“Sure?” Yaz can feel the warm whisper against her lips, and she allows herself a second to catch her breath. 

This tipping point in their relationship is built over month of mad adventures, grief and tough choices. But for every grueling day, there's dozens of memories Yaz hold close to her heart. Days filled with laughter, sparkling grins and growing friendships, and nights spent star gazing with a surprisingly quiet alien at her side. The choice is easy, reminding Yaz of the last time the Doctor asked if she was sure about one of her decisions.

"Yes." The barely contained earnestness in her voice would have embarrassed the dark haired woman in any other situation, but not now. Not when it feels like the moment she spent months waiting for is finally about to happen. 

The hand cupping her cheek slides down, tracing her jawline until the Doctor’s thumb hooks under Yaz’s chin and pulls softly, pressing their matching grins together. 

Their first kiss is messy, an awkward clash of teeth and noses bumping against each other. They separate, before the Doctor tilts her head and tries again. 

The clumsiness of the contact fades, leaving Yaz completely unprepared to deal with how addicting properly kissing the Doctor is.

There’s a frozen second where her brain stops, grappling with what she should be doing with her hands. The Doctor’s haven’t moved, one cupping Yaz’s jaw while the other has a loose grip on the back of her neck, nails gently scratching against the sensitive skin. 

The movement and the sensation of soft lips moving against her own draws a low moan out of Yaz, firing her brain back into action as her hands find purchase somewhere around the Doctor’s waist. The solid warmth anchors the dark haired woman, and she grips into the Time Lord's shirt in an attempt to close the remaining distance between them. Their awkward position forces her to slide to the edge of the sofa, and the Doctor shifts her hand from the side of Yaz's jaw to the small of her back, pulling gently. 

Yaz follows her lead, arranging her limbs until she’s straddling the Doctor’s lap, the alien offering a satisfied hum in reaction as her arms wrap around the younger woman's waist. Running out of air, Yaz reluctantly breaks the kiss and closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against the Doctor's. She lets her hands rest on the blond's shoulders, thumbs rubbing against her collarbones. 

"Do that again?" Yaz asks, surging forwards. She feels more than she hears the Doctor’s chuckle, her brain filled with the taste of custard cream biscuits, and the teasing sensation of teeth nibbling against her bottom lip.

The odd combination is the last conscious thought Yaz registers until Graham comes knocking at their door, eager to leave for the evening meal. 


	7. Day 72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a bit late this week, but you get an extra-long chapter (Or half of a chapter, I had to cut it in two. It was getting uncontrollably long). I feel like it’s a good trade off :-P.
> 
> There is some plot development towards the end, but this is honestly 70% fluff (and next week will be the same, unless you all think it’s too much fluff!). I’ll end this note with a thank you for people who left comments or kudos on this work!! I’m a bit blown away by the answer to this story!

Yaz pries her fist open and slides off the glove sticking to her frozen skin. She rubs her hands together, blowing against her folded fingers as she makes her way deeper into the house. Dropping the rest of her winter gear on the couch, she pads through the moon lighten interior and stops on the threshold of the bedroom. 

The sight greeting her brings a gentle smile to her lips, as she approaches the hammock to find a soundly sleeping alien tucked under the blanket. 

Yawning, Yaz stretches her arms over her head, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. Her work shift ran late again, for the third time this month. 

The increase in patrols has done nothing to ease the population's concerns over the recent streak of attacks, yet her boss kept insisting on having every officer available on the night shift rotation. Yaz noticed months ago that people's questions seem to fade over time, and with the most recent victim being found four weeks ago, she managed to work her entire shift without being interrogated on the matter. 

The long hours are wearing on the dark haired woman, with the cold wind constantly sipping into her clothes and clinging to her bones. Yaz's eyes drift back to the Doctor, longing for the warm comfort of their bed. 

With a sigh, she forces herself to bring a change of clothes to the bathroom and takes a quick shower, rinsing off the last traces of her work day before slipping into a long sleeve shirt and checkered pajama pants. 

Returning to her room with another muffled yawn, Yaz carefully sneaks into bed, trying to let the Doctor enjoy a rare night of sleep. She winces as gravity draws their bodies together, jostling the hammock enough to wake her friend. 

A sleepy hazel eye slides open, glancing around to find the source of the movement and sparkling when the Doctor finds Yaz. The Time Lord blinks, and Yaz startles at the completely alert gaze now focused on her. 

"Weren't you sleeping?" 

"Just a catnap, I'm awake now. You're late." 

Yaz rolls her eyes, remembering the long day. "It's not my fault, I got stuck doing the evening patrol. Did you have fun with Ryan and Graham?" 

The Doctor pulls a face. "They made me watch Under The Meteor Shower again." 

"Is that the one with the blue people?" Ryan and Graham discovered a shared passion for alien reality television, which neither Yaz nor the Doctor can stand. 

"Yes. The twins got eliminated, Graham thinks the one with horns is cheating, and Ryan says I need to be more like the bloke without a neck." She pauses, remembering the young man's enthusiastic advice. "He said something about shooting that I didn't reall..."

"Shooting?" Yaz interrupts with a groan. "Ignore him." 

"What? What did he mean? You weren't there, how can you know?" The Doctor fires the questions in rapid succession.

Yaz sighs. Graham and Ryan are still clueless about the shift in their relationship, at her own initiative. Watching the two men lose their mind every time she holds the Doctor's hand, or cuddles into her over a film is a sweet revenge, after months of suffering through their merciless teasing. 

The strategy occasionally backfires on Yaz, mostly when Graham comes over without warning or when Ryan deems himself an expert in dating, offering suspicious advice to the oblivious alien. 

"How am I supposed to keep up with all your twenty-first century sayings, if you don't help?" The Doctor asks again, nudging the hand wrapped around her upper arm. 

"All right." Yaz surrenders, falling onto her back and closing her eyes. "He says shooting your shot. It means making the first move." The dark haired woman peers at the Doctor with one eye, sighing when she meets a confused frown. "In a dating context." Still nothing, and Yaz is running out of ways to explain herself. "You know, pursue someone you're interested in?" 

"You mean like when I kissed you?" The Doctor clarifies, and Yaz doesn't need to see her face to know she's smirking. 

"Yes. Exactly like when you stopped mucking about and kissed me. You don't get to look smug, it took you two months of us living together before y..."

"Shot my shot." Yaz snickers at the odd expression in the Doctor's mouth, nodding. "Was a good shot though." 

"Was it? I forgot, I think you should remind me." 

Her teasing smile disappears when the Doctor's hand drifts to the back of her neck, holding her in place as soft lips press against her own.

A week has passed since the first time she did that, but Yaz's brain still freezes for a second of stunned amazement every time they kiss. After almost a year of daydreams and impossible fantasies, not having to constantly watch her words and behavior around the alien is freeing. 

Her body's response is much faster - a quickly learnt instinct of pulling the Doctor closer - and her hands find the other woman's shoulders, tugging until she shifts to straddle her hips. Yaz shuffles back in an attempt to sit up, grumbling at the lack of support offered by the hammock before the Doctor stumbles into her, losing her balance with the hasty movement. 

The Time Lord scrambles to steady herself, bracing her weight against her elbows on either side of Yaz. The dark haired woman's thigh falls between her legs, pushing their upper bodies together. The intimacy of the position is new, a quick progression over the safe touches over clothing they've exchanged so far.

They both freeze, sharing a dazed look as they breath against each other's lips, before the Doctor offers a slow grin. Resting her weight against her left arm, she uses the other hand to cup Yaz's breast through her shirt. 

The blond’s fingers splay around the soft weight, thumb rubbing teasingly around the nipple while Yaz spares a grateful thought for her own choice of sleepwear, feeling every shift of the Doctor's fingertips through the thin material. 

Yaz lets out a strangled moan, tilting her head to meet the Doctor's pleased gaze. 

"Don't get cocky." The younger woman's eyes drift to the alien’s jawline, following the exposed column of her throat before cupping the back of her neck with one hand. Her fingers tangle in short hair, and she tugs gently, grinning at the shiver traveling through the Doctor's back in reaction. 

Yaz dips her head to nuzzle the offered skin, brushing her lips across the Time Lord's throat until she finds her collarbones and nips gently against her pulse point. 

The quiet gasp that escapes the Doctor sends an odd mix of pride and desire coursing through her, adding to the warm arousal stirring up low in her stomach. Yaz pauses for a second, enjoying the electric energy drawing them together with a content sigh... 

Until the comfortable weight of the Doctor's body laying against hers vanishes. 

Yaz freezes in reaction, watching as the Time Lord’s eyes sink to the ground. She tentatively retreats to her side of the hammock, laying on her back before glancing at the other woman. 

Squirming under the slight frown thrown in her direction, the Doctor tries to justify the abrupt interruption. "Sorry, I..." She trails off with a shrug. "Sorry."

"Is everything all right?" Yaz frowns, her mind running through the last few seconds, as she struggles to understand what just happened. The Doctor seemed to be enjoying herself, - until she wasn’t - and Yaz wonders if she’s to blame. It's hard to tell for sure with her limited experience, but if she did something wr...

"Yes." The quick answer cuts through Yaz's doubts. "It's just..." 

The Doctor lets out a long sigh, struggling to explain the overload of sensations - she never thought having her neck kissed would cause that much of a reaction - triggered by arousal in this new body. Being a woman is still new, and while she can't wait to find out what sex with a partner feels like, she's also nervous. And curious. And a bit anxious. 

Her attempt at sorting out the messy emotions tangled in her head is interrupted by a kiss to her nose, drawing the Time Lord's attention back to Yaz. 

"You're thinking too loud." She raises on one elbow, watching as the Doctor's hands slide back to safer territory, one against her hip and the other gently cupping her cheek, thumb caressing the skin under Yaz's eye. 

“Good day?” The dark haired woman asks, offering a change of subject while her thundering heartbeat slows. She slides down and settles against the Doctor’s side, head resting on her shoulder.

“Ryan keeps running off with Jael, and I'm alone with Clumsy.” The Doctor grumbles, scrunching her face. The leftover breathlessness in her voice forces Yaz to muffle a smile against the palm of her hand, before she can concentrate on the words.

“With who?” 

“Tall, dark hair, purple eyes. I think he’s from Pandomia.”

“Doesn't he have a name?” 

“Don’t know, he doesn’t really talk.“ The Doctor shrugs. “So I gave him one.”

“And you thought...” Yaz trails off, struggling to contain her laughter. “Clumsy was a good choice.”

“Well, he is.” The Time Lord answers, stressing the last word. “Keeps dropping everything I give him. He almost fell off his ladder, and he tripped on my really clever electrical setup. All in one day.” She frowns, remembering the man’s hindering of their progress. “We’ll have to do overtime to be ready for next week.”

“What’s next week?”

“Some sort of celebration. I don’t know what it’s about, but it sounds important. There’s a dinner party and everyone is supposed to be there.”

"It’s winter. Maybe it's their Christmas." Yaz suggests.

"No!" The Doctor exclaims, with a frantic shake of her head. "It can't be. It's the probably the opposite of Christmas, it's... An anti-Christmas party." 

Yaz blinks, shifting her weight on her elbow again to look directly at the Doctor. "Don't tell me you hate Christmas. I love it." 

"But you're Muslim, I thought you didn..."

"We celebrate, sort of. We have a big family dinner. My cousins were bullied at school one year because they didn't have any gifts, and my uncle started the tradition." Yaz shrugs, before going back to their initial discussion. "Why do you hate the holidays?" 

"I don't. Love the holidays. I have a very specific problem with Christmas." 

"Why?" 

"Because every time I try to celebrate, it gets interrupted by some sort of catastrophe." 

"You always get into trouble, no matter which day of the year it is." Yaz laughs, settling back against the Doctor's shoulder. "Stop hating on Christmas, you've just been unlucky." 

"Unlucky? Sixty-two times? That's what you're going with?"

"Sixty-t.... Consecutively? Wait, when do you celebrate Christmas anyway, you're a time traveler." 

"Doesn't matter when it happens, I always have to save the day." The Doctor mutters, and Yaz nudges her arm until it wraps around her back, allowing her to shift her head to the alien's chest.

"All right, I get it. You're Scrooge. Next week will be awkward though, if everyone is going to a part..." 

"Do you want to go? With me. I've heard anti-Christmas party are terrible, we should definitely go together." The Doctor asks, her face scrunched at her own rambling. 

Dating and being socially awkward has never been a combination the Time Lord enjoys, but centuries of turning down any sort of romantic relationship left an added layer of rust to her historically reliable flirting skills. 

"Like... A date?" Yaz clarifies, with a slow grin. 

"Yes?" 

"You're asking me on a date." The dark haired woman repeats, beaming. Her fingers trail over the Doctor's jawline, pressing gently until they’re properly facing each other.

"I am." The kiss she receives in answer lingers, as her arms slide down Yaz's sides to slip under the thin material of her shirt. 

Careful to keep her hands on the younger woman's back this time, the Doctor notices goosebumps littering the soft skin under her fingertips. She briefly wonders if Yaz's shivers are caused by her touch or by the cold, but the human's need for air forces them apart before she can find an answer. "That’s a yes, right?" 

"No. I was just letting you down nicely." 

***************

"You're kidding." The Doctor complains, desperately rummaging through the available portion of the TARDIS' wardrobe. 

Besides her duplicated usual outfit, the room is filled with costumes she picked up through her travels. There's even some of her ancient clothes from Galifrey that she shuffles to the darkest part of a closet with a grimace. Nothing is appropriate for a formal celebration, except...

"I'm not wearing this." The ship's silence fills the room, until the Doctor lets out a long sigh. "Come on, wearing that stupid tuxedo for Christmas is just asking for some sort of universe threatening disaster to happen."

Grasping the Sonic, the Time Lord makes her way to the wall lined up with shelves of clothes. She climbs on the first level and tries to activate the TARDIS' rotating system, letting out a loud grunt in answer when the mechanism refuses to budge. 

"All right. You win. But if something blows up, I'm blaming you." 

Leaving the room with the clothes under her arms, she makes her way to her bedroom and changes into the cursed suit. The Doctor stands in front of the mirror, curiously observing how the jacket falls on her slimmer shoulders. 

She flattens a few wrinkles on her crispy white shirt, grinning as she catches a glimpse of the full picture. Not bad for a two thousand year old Time Lord. With a last nod, she turns to the bed and considers the options laid out in front of her. Black tie, or bow tie?

"Do I still like bow ties?" Slipping the piece of black material under the collar of her shirt, she watches her fingers retrace the movements she did thousands of times in her eleventh incarnation. The end results satisfies the Doctor, and she straightens the black bow tie as she leaves the room. 

***************

"Really, Ryan?" Yaz asks, eyeing Ryan's choice of jeans and white polo skeptically. 

"It's black and white." 

"You can't wear jeans at a formal party, I don't care what color they are."

"I can do what I wa..." 

"Nope. There you go." Graham interrupts, entering the shelter and throwing a pair of black trousers to his grandson. "I've got a shirt for you too. You're lucky I work by the marketplace, or you'd have to stay home. I'm not going anywhere with you dressed like that." 

Ryan grumbles to himself, slipping into the bedroom to get changed. 

"Jael will thank us." Yaz comments, Graham chuckling in answer. 

"He's never liked formal clothes. He tried going to a wedding in jeans once, you should have seen Grace's face." The older man recalls, turning to his friend. "Looking good, Yaz."

"Yeah?" The dark haired woman repeats, self consciously tugging on the short sleeve of her deep purple dress. "I haven't worn a dress in forever, but I had to get that one." The soft, warm fabric wraps around her left shoulder, falling low across her torso and leaving the opposite side of her upper back exposed. 

"You look nice, love." Graham offers with a gentle smile, and Yaz nods in answer. "You've seen the Doc?" 

"She said she'd meet us there, something about the TARDIS' wardrobe being better than a marketplace." 

"Of course it is. Wonder wh..."

"She's probably going to show up in her regular outfit, and nobody will say anything." Ryan interrupts. "I should start telling people I'm an alien, I could do what I want." 

"Technically, we are aliens here. You're still going to wear a tie." Graham says, approaching his grandson with a thin black tie. Ryan sighs, allowing the older man to throw the piece of clothing around his neck, before batting his hands away. 

"I'll do it. Can we go now? Before you make me change again." Ryan pulls a face, and the group walks back to the entrance in search of their winter clothes. 

***************

Yaz and Ryan stands around, looking through the large tent decorated for the celebration. Graham is at the entrance, leaving their coats with a crew of Calistans in charge of changing rooms, and he joins their curious observation. 

The space is big enough to host most of the adults living in the village, with the children left to their own party in a nearby tent. Tables are spread out to form a large circle around a campfire, protecting the attending crowd from the effects of the whistling wind blowing outside. Strings of fairy lights are hung across the room, adding to the festive atmosphere surrounding the group. 

"Did you really put all of this together in a week?" 

"About a week, yeah." Ryan confirms, spotting the Doctor going through the door behind them. 

"All right, gang. I want to apologize in advance, if something blows u..." The Doctor trails off, her gaze meeting Yaz's. Her hazel eyes sparkle in appreciation as they trail down the younger woman's figure, lingering on the soft patch of skin exposed on her right shoulder. "Up. Hello." The greeting is a breathless whisper, answered only by Yaz's shy grin.

"Hello. We're here too." Graham points out. 

"Gross." Ryan glares at his granddad when he received his pointy elbow to the ribs. "What? Maybe I'm tired of being half of the unofficial third wheel." He says, throwing his hands in the air. 

The expression catches the Doctor's attention, drawing an affectionate eye roll out of Yaz. "Wheels? Where?" 

"'Metaphorical wheels. Come on, I want a drink." The dark haired woman replies, tucking her hand in the crook of the Doctor's elbow and pulling gently towards the food table. Once they're out of Graham and Ryan's hearing range, Yaz tilts her head. "Remember when I said you look great in a suit?" 

"Yes." The Doctor answers, gulping at the sensation of warm breath tickling the shell of her ear. 

"I was right." Yaz says, punctuating the sentence with a quick kiss to the Doctor's earlobe before she focuses on the food displayed in front of them. 

The feast looks nothing like the usual cafeteria meals, with their daily menu being very similar to a regular Earth restaurant. "Doctor?" 

The Time Lord snaps out of her dazed thoughts, following Yaz's gaze to the table. "Right. Let's see..." The Doctor pauses. "Wait, the boys should probably be here for that." She motions Graham and Ryan closer, whipping out the Sonic and scanning the food. 

"Well, nothing is going to kill you." She says, after a moment of contemplating the screwdriver's display. "But there's wine in the drinks there." The Doctor points to small tubes, filled with a red glowing liquid. "And anything green might make your hair falls out. Make good choices." 

"How much wine?" Ryan asks, eyeing the drinks. 

The Doctor puts the Sonic back in the inside pocket of her jacket, before grabbing one of the tubes to take a slow sip. "Hm. Entirely too much."

Ryan reaches for his own drink, groaning when his hand is batted away by Graham. "Let's eat something first. Something that’s not green." He adds, dragging the younger man to the other side of the table as he grumbles along the way. 

"Can you get drunk?" Yaz asks, intrigued. 

"Oh, yes. I need more than you though. Humans should quit drinking, you lot can't handle it." 

"What happens when you get drunk?" The police officer prods, ignoring the quip. 

"No idea."

"What?" Yaz frowns, taken aback. 

"I don't know. The Scotsman used to get all silent and frowny - well, more frowny than usual. Bow Ties tried to fight everyone. The me before that couldn't stop talking. I once talked robots out of attacking my friends while I was drunk. But this new face... No idea." 

Yaz blinks, trying to follow the rapid flow of information thrown at her. The Doctor speaking so openly about her past regenerations is a very recent development, not that she's complaining. Conversations can take a distracting turn, and the human shakes her head as her mind goes back to the initial question. 

Turning towards the table, she sizes a cup of a warm, dark liquid that smells like cinnamon and reaches to tap the edge against the Doctor's drink. 

"Do you want to find out?" 

The Doctor purses her lips, considering Yaz's offer. She really shouldn't - not with the mix of a potential Christmas celebration and her cursed tuxedo - but there's a mischievous glimmer in her friend's eyes, combined with the tantalizing aftertaste of spicy wine lingering on her tongue... 

"Promise to get me home?"

"Always." 

"Well then..." The Doctor trails off, raising the tube in Yaz's direction, "Salud." The Time Lord offers, before downing the rest of the liquid and reaching for a second serving. "This stuff is really good. I don't know where they've been hiding it." 

"All right, pace yourself. There’s supposed to be dancing after dinner." 

"What makes you think I can dance, Yasmin Khan?" The Doctor asks, slugging an arm over Yaz's shoulders and gently guiding her away from the growing crowd around the food table. 

"I'll just have to find another partner, if you can't." The dark haired woman replies, biting off a teasing smile when the Doctor frowns at the idea. 

"It was a rhetorical question. You should know, I'm the best dancer in this room." 

"The best? Really?" The dubious raised eyebrow that comes with the question only deepens the Doctor's frown. 

"Yes. I'll just have to prove it to you."

Yaz laughs, dropping her forehead against the blond's shoulder and drawing a pleased smile from the Doctor. This evening might not be so bad, Christmas party or not. 

***************

The Doctor is enjoying the pleasant fog slowing her thoughts for once, as she watches the organizers of the evening stoke the camp fire. A buzzing silence is progressively filling the room, and the blond frowns when Yaz tilts her head in her direction. 

"What's happening?" The younger woman punctuates her question with a squeeze of the hand she has resting on the Doctor's thigh, distracting the Time Lord for a second. 

"Not sure." She sighs, enjoying the last sip of her seventh tube of wine before discarding the empty glass on the table... Or is she on number eight? "If it's something terrible, you'll have to give me four minutes to sober up." 

Yaz chuckles, shaking her head. "The world is not going to end because it's Christmas. Calm down." 

"Yaz." The Doctor whines, drawling out the name. "It's not Christmas." 

"Is this what happens when you get drunk now? You turn into a toddler?" Yaz challenges, the gently teasing sparkle in her eyes softening her words. 

"Hm." The Doctor smirks, using the hand she has thrown over Yaz's chair to slowly trail her fingertips across the exposed skin of her back. "I don't know." The blond says, tilting her head to drop a kiss where Yaz's neck meets her shoulder. "Would a toddler do that?" 

Yaz lets out a silent gasp, shivering under the soft touch and the sensation of lips brushing against her ear. "Stop it." She weakly protests, and the Doctor's reply gets cut short by Graham from across the table. 

"Again, we're still here." 

"It's embarrassing." Ryan adds, sitting from his spot between the Doctor and Jael.

"She started it." The Doctor complains, shrugging. 

"I... What?" 

"You said I was whining." 

"Because you _were_ whining." 

"I was not." The Time Lord frowns, and Yaz rolls her eyes in mock exasperation. 

"You're never drinking again." 

"What? I like drinking, and it was your ide..." 

Their bickering ends when two men enter the tent, holding the door opened for a third one. The newcomers are dressed in all red, in some sort of uniforms that gives them a military look. The third man advances until he's standing in the middle of the circle formed by the tables.

"Please, stand in respect of the Queen." 

The Doctor sighs, scrambling to get up with the rest of the crowd as she whispers to Yaz. "I feel like I should warn you. I don't do well with queens either." 

"Be quiet, and we'll be fine." The dark haired woman replies, struggling to contain the answering smile.

"People of Sinda Calista, please welcome the Queen of Years, reigning over Akhaten and its seven worlds, including Sinda Calista and the Grey..."

The crowd's attention shifts from the stranger to a younger woman making her way through the room with a kind smile and a gentle blue gaze. Blowing her blond hair out of her eyes, she interrupts the speaking man.

"Thank you, Kiri. I think they know who I am by now." The woman rounds the fire, inspecting the crowd with a grin. "I'm Merry Gejelh, in case anyone forgot since last year." She pauses to allow the soft chuckle in the room to die down. "Please everyone, sit."

With a sharp inhale, Merry's gaze travel around the room, capturing its occupants' attention as her voice takes on a deeper tone. 

"As you join me for an evening of celebration, let's remember the reason we're gathered here. Today marked the thirteenth anniversary of our liberation from the Old God. I'm the Queen of Years, and my duty is to ensure that our history is never forgotten. In honor of the Festival of Offerings, let me tell you the tale of the woman who vanquished a God, and the man who protected the world."

"Not Christmas then." Yaz murmurs, pulling the Doctor out of her shocked daze as she puts her hand back on her thigh. "You should be happy." 

The Time Lord can only nod, listening to Merry's recount of her very first adventure with Clara Oswald, sparing a thankful thought for the Queen's decision to omit specific names from her story. 

***************

"Getting some water, do you want anything?" The Doctor whispers, tilting her head in Yaz's direction as the dark haired woman brushes away an embarrassing tear. 

The solemn silence that concluded the Queen's tale is beginning to fade, starting with the small crowd gathered around the food table. Yaz is still processing the powerful words, and judging by Ryan's empty gaze, she's not the only one. 

"No, just..." Yaz trails off, letting her eyes fall to the empty plates on the table. "Don't be gone too long." She'd like company to allow the storm of emotions running through her head to settle, but the alien's short attention span is clearly gnawing at her. Yaz releases the grip she has on her thigh with a quiet sigh.

The Time Lord stands, dropping a distracted kiss against Yaz's hair before leaving the table. Her wrist is caught by slim fingers before she can go far. "Are you all right?" 

"Of course." The words slip out before the Doctor has time to think the answer through, and she forces a smile under Yaz's curious gaze. 

The expression seems to satisfy the dark haired woman as she lets her hand fall back against the table with a nod, allowing the blond to lose herself into the crowd. 

Spotting the nearest exit doesn't take long, the Doctor letting out a relieved breath in the crisp air of the night. The warmth of the fire was beginning to feel stifling as her mind got caught up in Merry’s story, shaking away the effects of the wine. 

The vivid memories brought back by the Queen’s words are still flooding through her brain, and her walk across the village is interrupted by flashes of Clara and notes of an old-as-time melody. The Doctor's feet guide her to the marketplace, where she finds a parked spacecraft, before her eyes fall on the person she was looking for. 

Queen Merry Gejelh is arguing with the man who introduced her entrance, obviously displeased by what she's hearing. Abrupt hand movements are punctuating the words thrown in the stranger's direction, along with an unhappy frown clouding the younger woman's face. 

The conversation is interrupted by a child - a small girl, no older than three years old - barreling out of the ship as the door slide open. She runs across the boarding platform with no concern for the height, while another alien wearing ample blue clothes chases her. 

"Princess, no! You can't run there!" 

The warning is ignored by the girl when she spots Merry and starts sprinting to the edge of the platform, until she's close enough to jump off. 

"Clara!" 

The child's landing is clean, ending with a neat roll through her fall before she can find her footing. She avoids the opened arms of the crew members surrounding the Queen, before ignoring both her mother's voice and her raised hands, as she runs for the pile of snow sitting next to the Doctor's observation spot. 

Realizing that her plan of saying a silent goodbye to Merry Gejelh is ruined, the Time Lord sighs and dives for the girl, barely managing to get a firm grip on her shoulders. 

"I'd normally run with you, but it would ruin my friends' nice evening out. Sorry." Raising her voice, the Doctor addresses the adults sprinting in her direction, as she catches a glimpse of Merry. "You named your daughter Clara. You like trouble, don't you?" 

The personal question stops the group in their track, before three guards jump into action. They form a protective circle around the Queen, while the younger woman reaches for her daughter, dragging her behind her back. The Doctor steps forwards, finding three guns suddenly pointed at her torso. She ignores the weapons, taking a step to the side as she tries to establish eye contact with Merry. 

"Who are you?" The question comes from the closest man, as he slowly lowers his gun when the Time Lord stops her approach. 

"I'm the Doctor." 

The tense silence that answers her introduction lingers, until the words sink in and draw an almost silent gasp from Merry. The Queen advances, gently pushing the soldiers out of the way when she comes closer to the Doctor, keeping her movements carefully slow. 

"You're not..." She says, eyes wide as she takes in the odd woman facing her. 

"I look different. But it's still me, Merry. I promise." 

The Queen's eyes harden at the words, a specific memory knocked loose in her head. 

"If it really is you..." She pauses. "What did you promise me the first time we met? In the pyramid?" 

The Doctor hesitates. The details of the day are burnt through her mind, but she promised a lot of things in that pyramid - to Merry, to Clara, to _herself_ \- and sorting through the mess of memories takes her a few seconds, before her thoughts click together. The Queen's priority as they faced off against the cruel sun had always been to protect her people. 

"That everyone would be fine if you didn't sacrifice yourself." 

A glimpse of recognition travels through Merry's eyes, as she whispers. "But your face..." 

"Is new. But look, I still have a bow tie, and... Wait, let me..." The Time Lord trails off, reaching for the inside pocket of her jacket and watching as Merry's eyes widen at the sight of her screwdriver. "Would that help?" 

"Your... Thing. I forgot how you call it, I had to skip that part in the story." Merry laughs, reaching to touch the cold metal carefully. The Sonic lights up, and she startles, bringing her eyes back to the Doctor's. "Are you alone? What about Clara?" 

The Time Lord's smile fades as she remembers her lost best friend. "She's off having her own adventures. Think she got tired of saving me." 

Merry balances her weight on the ball of her feet for a moment, quietly observing the other woman. "Can I..." She hesitates, taking an uncertain step towards the taller blond. The Doctor closes the remaining distance, drawing Merry into a hug that lingers when the younger woman clutches at her back.

"You saved my life. You saved millions of people that day. Thank you is not enough, but I don't..." She's mumbling against the Doctor's shoulder, and the alien's perceptive hearing barely catches the words.

"It's enough. It's always enough, Merry. You don't have to say anything." 

The younger woman clears her throat, and traces of her emotional outburst vanish when she speaks again. "You ran off before I could talk to you last time. I'm glad to have a chance to do it now. I thought you were never coming back." A half hidden reproach colors the Merry’s voice, and the Doctor breaks the embrace. 

"I don't really like... Well, this." The Time Lord says, thrusting her hands into her trousers' pockets. 

"I can see that." There's concealed amusement in the Queen's tone, drawing a small smile out of the Doctor as she watches one of the guard speak into the younger woman's ear. 

Merry shakes her head with a frown. "Duty calls, we still have two other worlds to visit." She falls quiet, eyes glancing from the ground to the Doctor. "Will we meet again?" The Time Lord's smile turns more sincere, as she catches a glimpse of the young girl Merry was the last time they met through the uncertainty of her voice. 

"I hope so, Merry Gejelh. I still haven’t found anyone like you, across all of space and time." 

Young Clara suddenly interrupts the conversation, as she starts running back to the ship. Merry turns, observing her daughter's sprint with a long sigh. "I'll try to keep an eye on your daughter too." 

"Please. She's not even three, and I'm the only one who can control her." Her fond smile turns wistful, as she puts her hands on the blond's shoulders. "Goodbye, Doctor." With a last parting hug, Merry turns back towards the spacecraft. 

The Doctor stays behind, her eyes following the Queen and her entourage as they walk through the boarding platform. Minutes later, the ship takes off in a flurry of snow and ice that covers the night sky in a sparkly white blanket, a heavy silence falling over the empty marketplace. 

***************

"It was you, wasn't it?" The words shatters the quiet atmosphere of the night, bringing the Doctor out of her contemplation of the sky. Yaz's footsteps grow louder as she approaches, until they're standing shoulder to shoulder. 

"What?" 

"I haven't worked out which one you were yet, but that story was about you." Denying the claim is the Doctor's first instinct, but the way Yaz stated her thoughts - with her usual quiet confidence - makes the truth spills out of her mouth. 

"The man." The Time Lord sighs. "I was the man." 

Yaz nods, glancing at the other woman when a heavy silence lingers over them. The Doctor's eyes are serious, in a way that reminds Yaz of their encounter with the Dalek retcon scout. There's a story there, one she desperately wants to know, but there's also a deep, troubling sadness.

With a quiet sigh, she stuffs her curiosity in a corner of her mind and chooses to lighten up the conversation. 

"At which point did fighting an actual sun sound like a good plan?" 

The question catches the Doctor off guard, drawing surprised laughter out of her. 

"Never. Have you met me?" 

Yaz chuckles, circling the Doctor's elbow with her hands as she turns to face the blond. 

"Weren't you scared?" 

"Yes! That sun was massive." The Time Lord exclaims, tilting her head to establish eye contact. "But there was nobody to protect all those people, and I wasn't going to watch Merry sacrifice herself." 

"Of course not." Yaz replies, a note of pride shining in her voice. 

"I really didn't do much. I yelled at it." The Doctor's eyes gloss over, and she smiles. "Clara did most of the work on that one." 

"You let her help you?" Yaz asks after a brief silence, stepping to the side and tugging on the sleeves of her coat to cover her hands. 

"Let? Clara? No, she just decided she wasn't going to watch me get... Destroyed? Vampirized? Turned into dust? Not really sure what that sun wanted with me." The alien replies, missing the disappointed flicker in Yaz's gaze. 

"But..." Yaz sighs, and the hesitation catches the Time Lord's attention. "The other people before us. Did you let them help?" 

"Where's that coming from? You always help me."

"Not really." Yaz points out, with a shrug. 

"Yaz, wha..." 

"Think about it. You give us tasks, yes. But they're always side jobs. You're the one coming in to save the day."

"That's not true."

"It is." Yaz throws her hands in the air. "We figure out things along the way, but it's always things you would have gotten to, eventually. We can never help when it's important." The younger woman pauses, shaking her head as memories fly through her mind. "I had to watch you drown, do you know how that made me feel?" 

"There wasn't anything you could do. Yaz, I wouldn't be able to save anyone without you..." The Doctor trails off, motioning to the tent they left behind. "Without any of you." 

"All right, so we're useful. I just..." Yaz pauses, frowning as she places the vague feeling clouding her thoughts. "Sometimes it's like I'm back at work." 

The dejected tone in the police officer’s voice makes the Doctor freeze. "Just... Taking care of space parking disputes. Then we crashed here, and the first time I get a chance to be in charge, I can't even sort out who's attacking old men in some village stuck in the middle of nowhere." 

The Doctor slowly approaches Yaz from behind. "I trust you. You have to know th..." Her brain catches up with the rest of the human’s sentence, and the Time Lord's attention slips. "Wait, attacking who?" 

Her only answer is a long sigh, before Yaz turns and faces her. "Every six weeks, the night patrol finds someone unconscious in the village, right before dawn. The victims are all old men, but that's the only thing they have in common." 

The Doctor blinks, going through a rapid list of causes that would fit Yaz's description, before she catches the resigned fall of the younger woman's shoulders. 

"What's wrong?" 

"You've already sorted it out. You always have this..." Yaz pauses, with a vague hand movement. "Look when you understand something."

The Doctor frowns and tilts her head, observing Yaz with an intense look of concentration. 

“All right, come on.” The Time Lord says, with a resolute edge to her voice. She grabs Yaz’s hand, before making her way to the nearest alley. "And just to be clear, the only thing I've sorted out is what's been bothering you. No idea what's going on." She pauses, tugging her suit jacket closed with her unoccupied hand. "Yet." 

“Then where are we g...”

"Somewhere quiet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to spoil it in the first note, but some of this probably didn’t make sense if you haven't seen The Rings of Akhaten. It's my favorite Doctor Who episode (tied with The Woman Who Fell To Earth), and I've been trying to work it into one of my stories for years!


	8. Day 82

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the direct continuation of part 7. Tiny trigger warning for discussion about gender identity, nothing too deep though.   
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, I was a bit nervous about last week's update 😬

The dining hall is empty when Yaz and the Doctor stumble into the room, with the wooden furniture barely visible under the dimmed moonlight. Yaz crumbles on the nearest bench, gasping for breath after being dragged halfway across the camp. She watches the Doctor sit on the opposite side, settling her elbows on the table and resting her chin against her folded hands as they stare at each other. Yaz wills herself to stay still, ignoring the urge to squirm under the look of intense concentration in the hazel eyes facing her. 

"All right, PC Khan. There's a criminal on the loose, and you want to catch him." Yaz nods, quietly. "Well, you have to work for your solution." She pauses, with the hint of a smile. "There's nothing magical about what I do, I just think really fast." 

"I know that. It's..." Yaz interrupts herself, frowning as she remembers the countless hours she already spent dissecting every aspect of the mystery. "I don't know where to start."

"Run me through everything you've learnt so far." 

"It started a couple of months before we crashed. People get attacked at night, once every six weeks, and they're found in some public place around the village on the next morning. The victims are always the same. Male, between 80 and 90 years old, and they don't know each other." Mentally reviewing the information she collected, Yaz corrects herself. "Well, two men were neighbors, but I think that's a coincidence. They're all in some sort of medically unexplained coma when they're found. Nobody has died yet, but they haven't woken up either." 

The Doctor purses her lips, deep in thoughts, before meeting Yaz's expectant gaze. "Right. Your facts are the pieces of a puzzle you have to put together." 

"But how?" 

"That's the fun part." The Time Lord replies, stressing the first word. "Trial and errors. Well, mostly errors." 

"What?" Yaz asks, both confused and captivated by the unexpected glimpse into the Doctor's thought process.

"You poke at the pieces until you can fit them together, sort of. Then, you test your theory." 

Yaz blinks, considering the explanation. The concept makes sense, but she has no idea how to apply the alien's advice to her specific case. 

"Again, where do I start?" 

"Why old men specifically, why not children? Or women?" 

"Because... They can't run fast?" The police officer suggests, cringing at her own idea.

The Doctor bites back an amused smile when Yaz takes her question literally. "Yes. But you're missing the important bit. Why are these people getting attacked in the first place? What do old men have, that someone else would want?" 

"Nothing. They're all refugees, they don't have much." The dark haired woman frowns, trying to see the situation from the perpetrator's view point. "And putting them into a coma is not the best way to get something." 

The blond hums, twisting the facts in her head. There's something familiar in the situation Yaz is describing, but she can't pinpoint what she's missing. A still silence lingers over the table as the Doctor tries to organize the pieces of information flying through her brain, before coming to the only possible conclusion. "You don't have enough." 

"Enough... What?" 

"Intel. You need more, if you want to solve this."

Yaz lets out a long sigh, shrugging. "I've been trying to get more. But I've already interrogated everyone who knew the victims, there is no witnesses, and Hector says people will panic if we ask too many questions." 

"They're already panicking." The Doctor points out. "You should see some of the rumors around the workshop. Werewolves were mentioned." 

The last sentence dissolves the background tension, leaving Yaz chuckling. The Time Lord watches with a fond grin, reaching to take the younger woman's hand. "Do you want my help?" The Doctor asks, tentatively. She's itching to solve the mystery presented to her, but the discussion that led them to this room is looping through her mind. 

"Of course, yes. I love working with you, it's just... It would be nice to be in charge sometimes, you know." 

"I really don't." The Doctor replies, shaking her head with a sheepish smile. 

"What?" 

"I take charge because I'm the best person to do it, not because it's fun. But when you want a job well done..." She trails off, shrugging casually while Yaz blinks, blindsided by the new bit of information about the Doctor. "Anyway, suggestion?" 

"Yes." Yaz redirects her thoughts to the conversation. "What is it?" 

"You need a trap. Wait until the next attack is supposed to happen, and send someone out to act as bait. Keep an eye on him, and you'll catch whoever is doing this." 

"That's..." Yaz starts, before snapping her mouth shut. The idea is clever, yes. But it's simple, and she should have considered the possibility of a trap much earl... 

"Yasmin Khan." The younger woman's eyes snap to the Doctor's at the use of her full name. "I've been doing this way longer than you." She scrunches her face, considering the reality behind her statement. "Way longer. You're brilliant, just give yourself time." 

"I'll try." Yaz offers a small smile, deciding that she has reached her limit of work talk for the night. "Now what? Do you want to go back?" 

“We should. The boys will wonder where we went.” 

The Doctor stands, offering her arm to Yaz as they wander back to the celebration. 

“I’ll just tell them I needed to make sure that a Queen telling a story about you wouldn’t get to your head.” 

“Do they know?” 

The alien's voice is serious, and Yaz frowns, intrigued by the tension coursing through the body pressed against her side. “That it was you? No, I haven’t t...”

“Don’t tell them. I don’t like talking about the past.”

Yaz hesitates, battling her own countless questions about the Doctor's past. She remembers the bustling party waiting for them at the end of the alley they're strolling into, and lets go of her objection. 

“All right.” 

The Doctor’s shoulders visibly loosen with a relieved breath that crystallizes in the crispy atmosphere. Yaz gently squeezes her elbow in wordless support, and the rest of their walk under the stars is spent in a comfortable silence.

***************

When they reenter the tent, Yaz wonders if they're in the same room they left barely half an hour ago. Tables are nowhere to be seen, with most of the space now being used as a dance floor. Her searching gaze finds Graham nursing a drink from the side, watching his grandson and Jael with a distracted smile. The Calistan is demonstrating a slowed motion version of the dance the rest of the crowd is caught into, a very up tempo waltz that makes Yaz dizzy just by looking at the twirling couples. Ryan is clutching her hand, tongue peeking from between his teeth while he tries to arrange his feet in the same position as Jael's. 

"Well?" 

Yaz's curious observation is interrupted by the Doctor, who's standing hands on her hips as she watches the dancers fly around the room. "What?"

"You wanted to dance." 

Yaz blinks, eyes going from the people sauntering around the floor back to the Doctor. "Yes, but not... Like that." She says, pointedly. 

"Why not? Looks fun." 

"You mean... You can do that?" Yaz raises an eyebrow, doubtful. 

"Probably." The Time Lord is starting to get the hang of these new legs, shorter but more agile - and a touch quicker - than her last regeneration's. "I know the steps. Haven't danced with that face yet though." 

"So, you might be terrible is what you're saying." Yaz can't resist the teasing opportunity, leaning into the Doctor's side. 

"Only one way to find out." 

The dark haired woman lets out a long sigh, shaking her head. "All right. If you're sure..." 

"I got this." The Doctor replies, gently pulling Yaz to the edge of the circle formed by dancing couples. "Ready?" 

One of the Doctor's hand falls to her hip, the other raising their joined hands in a more formal position. Yaz's arm automatically reaches for the blond's shoulder, grip tightening into her jacket as she feels people flying by them. "Ready." 

The word is barely out of her mouth before the hand on her hip guides her into the joyful flow of the crowd moving to the rhythm of the music. Yaz spares a grateful thought for her practical choice of flat shoes - she's always ready to run, since meeting the Doctor - over the tempting heels offered by the merchant when she went clothes shopping. 

The dance is easier than it looks, a quick succession of five steps repeated in both directions that ends in a simple twirl, but Yaz's eyes are still fastened to her feet as she tries to keep up with the breakneck speed of the people moving around her. 

The dark haired woman bites her lip and winces when a man elbows her in the ribs. He sends a quick apology over his shoulder, but Yaz is knocked off balance and the only thing keeping her from embarrassing herself is the Doctor's grip adjusting to her stumble. She finds her footing and sighs in relief, happy to see the rest of the crowd paying no attention to her clumsy movement. 

"Breathe." The new position brings the Doctor's lips closer to her ear, and she gulps at the word whispered against the side of her head. "I've got you." 

Yaz feels the tension coiled in her stomach dissipates with the quiet confidence in the blond's words. "I know." She shuffles closer to her dancing partner, her hand sliding along the taller woman's shoulders. The Doctor grins, leading them away from most of the crowd into a quiet corner of the room. 

"Where are we going?" 

"Didn't look like you were enjoying herself. We don't need a crowd to dance, do we?" She slows the speed of her movement when they near the white material of the tent's wall. 

For all her social awkwardness, the Doctor has a surprisingly accurate intuition about her companion's mood, and Yaz offers a grateful smile in answer. "That's not dancing, you're just holding onto me." The music comes to a dramatic final on her last word, morphing into a slower melody as a majority of the crowd pauses to catch their breath.

"Want me to stop?" 

Yaz brings their folded hands closer, resting them on her chest and leaning her forehead against the Doctor's collarbone. The hand casually draped on her hip shifts, falling to the small of her back when the Doctor pulls her closer. "I didn't say that." 

They start swaying together with the softer notes of violin filling the room, and Yaz turns her head to see the Doctor already regarding her. The hazel eyes crinkle with a grin when their eyes meet, drawing an answering smile to her lips. 

"How long are you two going to stare at each other?" Yaz jumps at Ryan's interruption, gaze snapping to the impatient man. "Seriously, it's getting painful now. Just kiss, and we can all mo..."

Yaz barely has time to prepare, catching the twinkle in the Doctor's eyes seconds before the blond dips her head and brush their lips together, cutting Ryan's rant short.

He blinks, jaw slacked as he watches the casual way his friend's arms linked behind the taller woman's neck when she returns the quick contact.

"Move on." Ryan finishes, snapping his mouth shut. Yaz laughs, fingers itching for her phone as she wishes she had a way of capturing the moment. "Right. Think I'll just..." He turns on his heels, still stuck in a stunned daze while he makes his way back to Graham. 

His granddad watches the scene unfold with a broad grin, raising both thumbs in Yaz’s direction. The younger woman feels herself blush in reaction, glancing to the floor while her friends make their way towards the exit. 

“Bye, then. Guess they’re not waiting for us to leave.” Yaz returns her attention to the Doctor, meeting a sheepish smile and mischievously sparkling eyes. 

"What?" The Time Lord shrugs. "He asked. And there's only so many pickup lines suggestions I can take without telling him about us." Yaz winces, imagining the advice Ryan bothered the Doctor with. "Worth it though. Did you see his face?" 

The dark haired woman shakes her head, laughing at the reminder of her friend looking like a fish out of the water. Her eyes drift back to the dance floor, now filled with couples slowly moving to the calmer music. 

“Want to go back? I don’t think anyone is going to push you.”

Yaz nods, pleasantly surprised. “Lead the way.”

***************

"Well, that was fun." The Doctor says, turning to help Yaz out of her winter coat. They made their way home when the celebration died down, lazily walking hand in hand until they returned to the cool atmosphere of their shared igloo. 

Yaz offers a distracted nod as her only answer, turning to face the blond in the lingering silence. 

"What?" The dark haired woman's hands grip into the lapels of her suit jacket, pushing gently until her back hit the side of the wooden shelf. "Yaz?" 

"I've been wanting to do that since I saw you." 

Standing on her tiptoes, Yaz brings their lips together in a rougher kiss than the Doctor expected. She swallows back a moan, meeting the younger woman's tongue with her own as she deepens the contact. She feels fingers play with the bow tie still wrapped around her neck, smiling when the material slips off the collar of her shirt and onto the floor. 

"Careful. That's my favorite bow tie." 

"Really? That's what you're thinking about right now?" 

"Well, I really like... Hmph." The rest of the sentence is lost against Yaz's lips, while the younger woman's hands tug the jacket off her shoulders. 

The Doctor obliges, shifting forwards to allow the sleeves to slide off her arms. She lets the the fabric hit the floor, and finds herself pushed against the wooden surface again, before she takes advantage of the skin left exposed by Yaz's dress. Her fingertips travel over the smooth warmth of her back as she traces the bumps of her spine. 

Yaz shivers at the light touch, forcing away the answering burst of arousal. For the first time, she feels like she's controlling the pace, and there's something addicting about the surprised noises she's drawing out of the alien. Trailing her lips along the taller woman's jawline, Yaz smiles when the hands on her back move higher to find purchase against her shoulders. She nibbles the Doctor's earlobe, before nuzzling the space behind her ear and nudging the golden chain with the tip of her nose. 

The blond tilts her head, offering her neck to Yaz who waste no time shifting her teasing touch. She drops open mouthed kisses across the Doctor's throat, fingers fumbling with the first buttons of her white dress shirt. 

When she slips her fingertips into the opening, a dual gasp escape their throats as she makes contact with the cool skin of the taller woman's chest. The fingers clutching her shoulders squeeze, and Yaz muffles a satisfied grin against the Doctor's collarbone, while reaching for the clasp of her bra. 

"Wait." 

The word is whispered breathlessly, but Yaz freezes the second she catches it. Her eyes search for the Doctor's as the other woman's gaze falls to the floor and her shoulders drop slightly. She side steps, breaking away from their embrace, and wanders off to the sofa, before falling into it and resting her elbows against her knees.

Yaz blinks, confused by the sudden mood change that reminds her of the last time their snogging escalated. Before she can realize what's happening, her feet follow the Doctor and she finds herself sitting at her side on the couch. 

"What happened?" The blond's slight frown is enough to prompt Yaz to clarify her question. "The other day? And just now? Did I do something wrong?" 

The Time Lord sighs, allowing her head to fall back against the couch. "It's not you." She runs a hand down her face as she struggles to sort through her own thoughts. "I've never done this."

"Done what?" Yaz blinks. "Have sex?" 

"What? Of course not, do you know how old I am? I've been with s... Hmph." The rest of her words are lost against Yaz's hand, pressed roughly against her mouth.

"Shut up. The end of that sentence is either going to turn me on, or make me jealous." The Doctor's lips move in reaction, and Yaz senses her smirk against her palm. She groans, rolling her eyes. "Focus. What have you never done?" 

The question draws a sigh out of the Doctor, and Yaz softens, moving her hand to the back of her neck and gently carding through the short blond hair. "Just... What we're doing."

"You've never dated anyone?" Yaz feels it's the safest way to describe the state of the relationship, refusing to complicate the discussion further by bringing up labels. 

"It's always... Complicated." The Doctor swallows through the memory of River, eager to have Yaz understand what she's trying to say. "I want to do it properly with you. Take my time." 

Which is a risk, silently acknowledges the Time Lord. There's something about Yasmin Khan that's forcing her to take that risk, to enjoy every second of their slowly deepening relationship, and she's tired of fighting her own instinct. 

The dark haired woman smiles, charmed by the sentiment behind the words. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I don't mind taking things slow." The Doctor shrugs, and Yaz frowns when she notices the way the other woman's gaze is still fastened on the ground. The silence lingers, and she decides to follow her hunch. "Anything else you haven't told me?"

"I'm really good at being _with_ a woman. Brilliant, really." Yaz bites her lip at the declaration - that level of smugness really shouldn't be attractive - and tries to concentrate on the rest of the Doctor's sentence. "But I'm still trying to get the hang of _being_ a woman. It's... A lot." 

"Is it really so different for you?" Yaz prods tentatively, trying to grasp what the Doctor is going through. 

"Yes." The emphasis put in the single word makes the younger woman pause. The Doctor always looks so human, it's easy to forget she's an alien. Knowing is one thing - though she still has no idea where she's from, or what her home planet is like - but having a discussion about her people’s definition of gender is not the starting point Yaz would have picked. 

“It’s like...” The Doctor trails off, eyes scanning the room as she struggles to explain herself. “My teeth!”

“Your what?” Yaz asks tentatively, confused by the comparison. 

“My teeth! Every time I regenerate, I get a brand new set of teeth. Which, side note, you never realize how attached you are to your teeth, until you have to get used to a new face. Always takes me a couple of days before I can eat properly. Or use dental floss. Or whistle.”

The Doctor pauses when she glances at Yaz and notices her barely contained grin. It’s the smile she always looks for in socially confusing situations, the one where a corner of her mouth twitches in a soft expression of fondness. Taking cues from Yaz is a lot nicer than watching Ryan and Graham’s reactions to her awkwardness, - a similar shuffling of their feet as they wince - and the Doctor learnt quickly to reassess the situation whenever she spots that particular smile. 

“How are your teeth related to your gender?” The dark haired woman prompts gently when silence lengthens. 

“Right, that’s where I was going. They’re completely new, but still the same. I know how teeth work, I know how they feel, and I don’t have to think about them. But this new body...” The Time Lord scrunches her face. “Nothing feels the same. My balance is off, my vision is weird, and how I react to you is completely new. Keeping up with all the differences takes so much space in my head, it’s hard to think of anything else.”

"Is it a bad sort of different?" 

The Time Lord shakes her head. "It's amazing, I've always wondered what being a woman would feel like. But it's overwhelming sometimes, especially when you kiss my neck."

"You're an idiot." Yaz states, and the Doctor frowns. 

"A bit, yes. But I don't see why you'r..." 

"Come here, idiot." The younger woman shuffles closer, cupping the Doctor's jaw and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Her hands shift to the blond's back, fingertips rubbing soothing circles between her shoulders. The gentle touch seems to work as the Time Lord sinks into the contact, humming when they separate before resting her forehead against Yaz's. 

"Mind telling me why I'm an idiot?"

"Because you always try to sort out everything by yourself. Let me help you." 

The Doctor frowns in genuine confusion. "How can you help?" 

"I have no idea how it feels to have your whole body change, or to suddenly be a woman after all those years of being a man. I'm not a... Well, one of your people. What are they called?" 

"Awful." The Doctor mumbles. 

"Wh..."

"It doesn't matter, Yaz. Keep going." 

Yaz frowns at the careless dismissal. Which species the Doctor belongs to really shouldn't be a difficult question to answer, but the conversation they're having is too important, too delicate to be interrupted. Yaz makes a mental note to bring up the subject in the near future, before forcing herself to continue. "I have no idea what you're going through, but I'm with you. Talk to me when you're overwhelmed, I promise it will help." 

"I've never done that." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I don't talk about my feelings." The Doctor states with a shrug, and Yaz broadens the gap between them to establish eye contact. 

"Can you try? You said you wanted to do things properly with me. That means talking to each other." 

The Doctor sighs. The warmth shining in the pleading eyes facing her tugs at her hearts, making the promise spill out of her mouth. "I'll do my best." 

Yaz offers a satisfied nod, shifting her arms to the Doctor’s shoulders and drawing her closer in a proper hug. Hands slide across her waist in answer, and they stay holding each other until Yaz breaks the leftover tension. 

“And how does that feel?”

“Hugs from Yaz? Amazing.” The Doctor muffles a smile against the dark haired woman’s shoulder when she feels her playful sigh at the teasing comment. “I love hugging you. It's brilliant.”

***************

They move to the bedroom a few minutes later, and Yaz sighs in relief when she changes into a well worn shirt and pajama pants. The soft cotton slides against her skin, a much needed relief after hours spent wearing a tight dress, and she falls into bed with a yawn. The Doctor shifts to accommodate her, opening her arms and smiling when Yaz rests her head against her chest. A peaceful silence lingers over the room, as Yaz basks into the warm sense of safety that blooms into her stomach whenever the Time Lord holds her.

"I... Don't really know what I'm doing either, you know." The combination of that secure feeling and the room's darkness brings the confession out of Yaz. 

"What do you mean?" The Time Lord's tone is gentle, sensing the younger woman's tentative voice. 

"I haven't been with a lot of people." Yaz cringes at her own choice of words. "Just a couple of ex-boyfriends, and a girl I met at a party once. It was always fine." Fine is a generous word to describe the clumsy encounters she shared with awkward schoolmates, that all left her satisfied if a bit disappointed. "I just never really understood what the fuss is all about." 

"Wait until I show you." The Doctor replies, expecting the burst of laughter that shakes Yaz's body in answer, dissolving the tension knotting her shoulders. 

"That was terrible." She says, letting go of the breath she was holding. 

"Oi, see if I ever try to be nice again." The Doctor's playfully offended look forces a smile out of Yaz, before the blond brings their lips together. The younger woman indulges in the sweet affection for a moment, until the yawn she's fighting escapes her. 

"Sorry, I'm shattered." She pauses, noticing the lack of her usual bedside reading on the Doctor's side. "Where's your book? Are you really going to sleep?" 

The Time Lord ignores the incredulous tone, brushing a kiss against Yaz's forehead. "Might as well. It's been a while since I've slept a whole night." 

"That's new." Yaz points out, nuzzling further into the Doctor's neck as the Time Lord’s arms tighten around her. "Goodnight, Doc." 

"Goodnight, Yasmin Khan." The dark haired woman closes her eyes, ignoring the shiver running up her back at the warm breath hitting the shell of her ear.

***************

The snowball whistling over Yaz's head barely misses her, as she dives behind a tree to take cover. She waits until her opponent circles the corner of the nearest igloo before sending her own projectile into his face, celebrating with a fist pump when it hits the intended target. Byram groans and shakes the snow off his head.

"All right, you win. I've eaten enough snow for tonight." He says, biting his lip to contain a yawn. Night fell a few hours ago, leaving the security department alone to patrol the village. Their trap is set with Hector acting as bait, the old man strolling across the most isolated part of the camp. 

His route includes the closed workshop and marketplace - both places should be empty until dawn - in the hope of drawing out whoever is assaulting innocent people. Hector is armed with a whistle, ready to alert the officers at the first sign of suspect behavior. 

Yaz jumps a little on the ball of her feet, excited at the prospect of having her plan executed. She brought up the idea of a trap in a meeting last week, and she was pleasantly surprised by her coworkers' reaction. The team had to quickly settle on a strategy, with the six week period since the last attack closing in. 

"Do you really think it's going to work?" Byram asks, his voice wistful as they walk through a narrow alley. 

"It's our best shot." Yaz shrugs. "We need to do something, before more people get hurt." 

Byram hums, kicking the snow on the ground as he falls quiet, while Yaz clears her throat. Their relationship is back on solid ground after it wobbled for a couple of days, as the man came to terms with her rejection. There's still a background awkwardness whenever silence lingers between them, and the young man decides to address it. 

"You could have told me." 

"About what?" Yaz frowns, glancing at him. 

"I saw you with your girlfriend at the Festival. You could have told me." 

The police officer blinks, caught off-guard by Byram calling the Doctor her girlfriend. They still haven't discuss the exact status of their relationship, but the word brings a beaming smile to Yaz's lips before she focuses on the conversation again. "I didn't want to hurt you." She says, keeping her voice gentle. "But I tried." 

Byram scratches his neck, remembering all the times Yaz gently turned down his offers of spending time together outside work, before he properly asked her to start a relationship. Letting out a self depreciating laugh, he nods. "You're right. Sorry, I'm a little clueless sometimes." 

"A little?" Yaz chances, glad to see her work partner laugh at her teasing as he shoves her shoulder. 

"Shut up. I promise I'll pay more att..." He's interrupted by the clear sound of whistle tearing into the quiet atmosphere of the night. Yaz and Byram exchange a quick look, before taking off sprinting towards the source of the noise. 

When they arrive on the scene, Hector is standing next to a dark shape laying on the ground. He's leaning against the nearest wall, one hand gripping the whistle and the other holding his cane in a defensive position. 

Byram raises both hands in a harmless motion, moving closer to put handcuffs on the unconscious suspect. More officers come running, with two older women taking charge of their shaken up boss, leaving Yaz to watch her partner work. 

When his cuffs are securely fastened around the stranger's wrists, he shuffles back in quiet observation. Yaz joins him, but the combination of moonlight and the mix of snow and blood caked on the suspect's head doesn't allow them to get a proper look. One thing immediately jumps off to both police officers, and Byram frowns as he voices their shared thought.

"It's a woman." He pauses, with a shrug. "Guess it makes sense why she attacked old men now. She's not strong enough to knock out anyone else."

"Oi!" Yaz objects, glaring in his direction. "Keep your misogynistic opinions for yourself."

"Sorry." He winces, realizing too late how his words sounded. "But she doesn't look very strong." Byram clarifies, nodding towards the woman that was being dragged to the makeshift prison they hurriedly put together on the previous day. "I have no doubt you could knock me out." 

Yaz nods, satisfied. "Don't forget it." 

The group assisting Hector gently guides him to a warmer environment, leaving Yaz and her partner standing alone in the now silent alley. Byram lets out a relieved sigh, beginning to walk away towards their usual patrolling route. 

"Glad that's over. The trap was just brilliant, Yaz. I wish we could have thought about it sooner, especially wit..." 

Yaz's attention slips, eyes following the injured woman as she's carried away. There's something bothering her about the scene they stumbled upon, but she can't quite put her finger on it. Before she can sort out her own thoughts, Byram's head peeks out from the corner of a wall. 

"Yaz?" 

"Sorry. What were you saying?"


	9. Day 90

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: This is completely plot centered. If you're here for fluffy Doctor/Yaz, come back next week for the last chapter :-). And please note that I know nothing about legal stuff, so I made most of this up (Thanks to Google for the help).
> 
> Many thanks to everyone still reading and commenting on this story!! I appreciate every one of you :-D

Yaz shuffles her weight from one foot to the other, nervously eyeing the crowd crammed together. Most, if not all of the camp's population is filling the dining hall. 

The usual wooden furniture is nowhere to be seen, gone to allow more people to gather in a wide circle. In the middle of the room, two tables are facing each other, separated only by a chair that's occupied by the camp's president, Achilles. 

The man has agreed to act as a judge in the improvised trial of the woman arrested last week, with Hector standing as prosecutor. The chief of the security department is seated at the far away table, his cane laying against his chair as he faces the suspect woman seated on the opposite side. 

Three witnesses - Byram, Yaz and the woman who helped guide Hector to safety on the night of the trap - were lined up away from the crowd, too far to hear the intense discussions between all parties. Yaz's partner was called up first, leaving her with the nervous woman nibbling at the skin of her thumb, as she struggled to keep calm. 

Yaz chose to stay silent and was mentally reviewing the events she witnessed, before being interrupted by Byram's return. Her friend's skin has a less sickly pale color than when he left, and he lets out a relieved sigh as he stops in front of Yaz. 

"Never testifying again. They can find other witnesses next time. She's creepy." He says, keeping his voice low. "Don't let her rattle you." 

"Are you all right?" Yaz frowns, noticing the sweat soaked collar of his jacket. 

"Yes, I just hate talking in front of that many people."

Yaz winces in sympathy, patting his shoulders. "I'm sure you did great. Achilles is the one with the tough job." 

Byram's answer is cut short when Yaz's name is called by Hector. She leaves him with a nod and walks up to the middle of the room, standing between the two tables as she faces Achilles, before allowing her gaze to wander into the crowd. 

Graham and Ryan are sitting nearby, matching supporting grins on their faces. Yaz smiles back, but the expression quickly fades when she realizes the Doctor is not with them.

"She left." Ryan mouths, catching the dark haired woman's searching eyes. Yaz frowns, but before she can give further thoughts to the alien's sudden departure, the accused woman speaks up. 

"I'm bored. Aren't trials supposed to be interesting?" The stranger's words draw Yaz's attention to her. It's the first proper look she gets at the person responsible for crimes she spent months investigating, and the sight is completely unexpected. 

The middle aged woman is dressed in a deep blue coat, hands bound together in front of her body with heavy handcuffs, with a flowery hat completing the odd look. "Hello, I'm Missy." 

Yaz gives an awkward wave, snapped out of her dazed observation. Hector doesn't give her much time to think, breaking the silence with his first question. 

"Can you tell us about the organization of the trap, please?" 

Yaz recounts the planning meeting held by her team quickly, before moving on to the events she witnessed the night it was executed. She does her best to recall as many details as possible, glancing periodically to the accused woman, who doesn't seem to be paying much attention.

When she's done, Hector nods in her direction and Achilles smiles, pointing her towards the exit.

"Wait, I have questions for that one." Missy interrupts. Hector opens his mouth to protest, but he's silenced by a glare thrown in his direction by the man acting as judge. "You said, the trap was your idea." 

The statement doesn't require an answer, and Yaz stays silent, watching the woman's slow approach. The hair on the back of her neck stands as piercing grey eyes find hers, forcing the police officer to make a conscious effort to stay still. 

"But who chose the bait?" 

"Wh..." 

"That... Man." Missy points to the table where Hector is sitting. "Who chose him?"

"He volunteered." 

"Who chose the place?" 

"Which place?" 

"The place where the trap was laid out." The woman articulates slowly, rolling her eyes. "Do keep up."

"Hector said we should do it somewhere empty, so nobody else would risk getting hurt." 

"Right. And no collateral damage also means...?" Yaz opens and closes her mouth, speechless as she struggles to follow the Missy’s train of thoughts. "No witnesses. Am I really the only clever person on this planet?" 

Yaz frowns at the remark. The woman's insults are irritating, but she's raising a valid argument that's only feeding the vague uneasy feeling she has whenever she thinks of that night. 

Nobody saw Hector getting attacked. She was first on the scene - with Byram - and they only witnessed the aftermath... Hector leaning on the wall with his cane, and Missy laying unconscious at his feet, her bloody face half hidden by snow.

"Do you think I did it?" The question brings Yaz out of her pondering, and her eyes narrow as she considers the answer. Byram is right, there's something unsettling in the stranger's intense gaze. 

"I'm... I don't know." It's the most honest answer Yaz can give, and it seems to satisfy Missy. 

"Great." She says, clapping her hands. "I changed my mind, I want a lawyer. The girl will do." 

The brief answering silence filling the room is soon replaced by a thunder of protest from the crowd. Achilles eventually stands from his chair, and raises a hand to ask for calm. "Yaz can't be your lawyer, she's a witness."

"She's done testifying, and you said I could have a lawyer." 

The older man frowns, biting his lip as he thinks through the request. His blue eyes eventually settle on Yaz, as he replies. "It's up to you. You have no obligation." 

Yaz twists her head, finding Graham and Ryan in the crowd. Graham offers a warning glare as their eyes meet, shaking his head firmly. Ryan is nodding with his two thumbs up, and Yaz sighs at their opposite reactions. 

The Doctor's opinion is the one she really wants, but there's still no sign of the alien in the room. She stifles an impatient groan at the realization - they spent a week discussing the upcoming trial together, and the Doctor promised to be there - before concentrating on the decision she has to take. 

"Well?" The accused woman snaps, narrowing her eyes, and Yaz gulps. There's still a very real possibility that she's a heartless criminal, who attacked innocent people without any motive. But the nagging doubts lingering in the police officer's brain are growing stronger. Hector seems trustworthy, but she doesn't know him much. Why would his version be believed over Missy's?

"I'll do it." 

Yaz approaches the spot where Missy is now sitting, falling into a second chair, before scooting away as far as the table allows. She’s willing to stand up for someone accused of crimes they might not have committed, but there's still a creeping glimmer of danger in the stranger's eyes that makes the dark haired woman deeply uncomfortable. 

"Relax, poppet. If I wanted to hurt you, you would already be dead. Killing people is one of my finest talent." 

Yaz blinks, eyeing the other woman with a doubtful gaze. "Maybe don't say that again. You're on trial for attacking people." 

"Hm, feisty. I like you."

***************

The last testimony goes without incident, leaving place to both parties' closing arguments. Yaz is vaguely familiar with the process, thanks to her police training. The academy ran its students through a couple of mock trials, since officers are often called up as witnesses.

Testifying in front of a court and trying to convince a judge of a stranger's innocence are two completely different notions, and Yaz sighs when Hector finishes his speech. She has no idea where to start, but everyone is throwing expectant looks in her direction - including the impatient woman on her left - forcing the police officer to stand with a deep breath. 

"I don't know what to tell you." Yaz says, feeling the crowd's attention turn to her. "I don't know if she did it or not. But not knowing should be enough to at least wait before banishing her. Give us more time to investigate the situation before making a decision. Nobody deserves to be left alone to die from cold and hunger."

"Wait, wait. Hold on. That's the sentence? Throwing me out of your miserable camp?" Missy interrupts.

"Well, ye..."

"Good!" The older woman drawls out. "I'm guilty. I've killed all of them, throw me out." 

The next events happen in a matter of seconds. The crowd explodes in noisy chaos, Hector fetches a weapon from his police uniform and Missy falls back into her chair. Yaz is left blinking, stunned at the quickly unfolding action, until Achilles stands from his chair and shouts. 

"Everybody quiet!" His intervention works, as the sound slowly dies down. 

"That's a gun. You didn't mention any guns." Missy snaps between gritted teeth, turning to Yaz.

"Well, I didn't know there would be a g..." 

"Please." Achilles interrupts, and Yaz falls quiet. "As you all know, the usual sentence for crimes is banishment. But I've decided to execute the person who will be found responsible for the attacks. I haven't made my decision about your fate yet, but..." He lets out a deep sigh. "I can't risk more innocent lives. I'm sorry." 

The occupants of the room freeze after his announcement, until Missy stands again. She prowls to the space between the tables, eyes fastened to the older man's face. 

"You haven't made your decision." She repeats, slowly. "You do realize I don't know anything about anyone in this room. Why would I bother with any of you? You're not important, you're just... Insects. Annoying, inconsequential little roaches." 

"That's it." Yaz whispers to herself, feeling her thoughts click into place after days of internal debate, and she springs out of her chair to address the crowd. "Has any of you seen her before last week?" 

When a lingering silence is her only reply, the police officer continues. "Because I haven't. What are the chances of a woman hiding among us for months, without anybody noticing her? And why would she just pop up every six weeks, attack one person, and vanish again?" 

"Finally. Someone whose brain hasn't completely frozen." There's the ghost of a smile on Missy's lips when their eyes meet across the room. "I've never been in this silly little village before the night Stumpy over there jumped me." 

"Why were you here at all? It's not exactly a popular tourist spot." Yaz prods, ignoring the annoyed glare thrown in her direction. She's fairly sure the woman is not responsible for the crimes she was charged with, but she's not letting her leave until she's certain. 

"I'm... Looking for a friend. I thought maybe he..." Missy trails off, before abruptly shaking her head. "It doesn't concern you. You w..."

"Where's your friend? Maybe he can vouch for you." Yaz suggests, frowning at the cold chuckle she receives in reply. 

"Good try." Missy says, laughter dying down as her eyes harden. "But you're about two thousand years too late."

"Just let us talk to him. Where is he?" Achilles pushes, satisfied with the idea presented by Yaz. A neutral point of view might help him size the curious woman he has to judge. 

" _Enough._ " The word snaps harshly in the cold silence. "I'm trying to be patient. I've sat through this... Farce of a trial. I've waited in a cell for a week, because I'm trying to be a person." 

"Nice." Yaz whispers drawing fiery grey eyes to her. "You... Mean a nice person." 

"Oh, no. There's nothing good about me." Missy spits out, and Yaz inches away towards the safety of the table behind her. Gripping the wood with one hand, she falls into her chair when the stranger starts pacing. 

"I don't care about dying people. I don't care about any of you, nor do I care about this stupid planet. I care about my friend, who's not here." Her voice raises, as her eyes wander around the captive crowd. 

"I'm going to leave now." Missy starts again, making her way to the table to drop the handcuffs that were binding her hands. The clunk they make as they hit the surface echoes around the stunned dining hall. 

"Nobody is going to stop me, not unless they want to face very unpleasant consequences." With a smirk, Missy turns on her heels to face the exit. 

And finds herself staring into an unfamiliar pair of hazel eyes, sparkling with a very familiar energy. 

"Now what?" The Doctor asks, with the shadow of a smirk. "I'm stopping you from leaving, in case you didn't get it. By standing in front of you, bec..." 

"Shut up." Missy fires back, after a deep sigh. "I had issues with Eyebrows, but at least you didn't... Ramble." 

"It's so bad this time, Missy. I annoy myself. All the words in my head are so distracting, it's..." The Doctor trails off, suddenly remembering where they're standing. "A conversation we should probably have later."

***************

"Can't we just leave and have it now?"

"No, we really can't." The Time Lord answers, passing her mumbling friend and strolling to the table where Yaz is observing the action, her jaw slacked. 

"Sorry, I missed your bit." The Doctor purses her lips, biting down on the instinct to take the younger woman's hand. "I had to get..." She trails off, rummaging through her coat’s inside pocket until her fingers meet the handle of an umbrella. "This." 

"My Sonic. I was starting to think the idiots lost it." Missy complains, snatching the object from her hands. 

"You could just say thank you." The blond moves to sit against the edge of the table, careful to stay between Yaz and Missy. The other Time Lord seems to be in a fairly good mood, but there's no reason to take risks. 

"Now, since you didn't attack anyone..." The Doctor frowns, considering her own words. "Wait, you didn't attack anyone, right?" 

"Please. I have more important things to do than attack people on some ice planet."

"Well, who did?" The question is aimed at her oldest friend, their eyes meeting in a loaded stare. 

"Hold on." Missy interrupts the flow of theories already running through her mind. "Can I kill them, if I get it right?" 

"No." 

"Boring. Sort it out yourself." 

The Doctor turns a mischievous gaze in Missy's direction, leaning in to bump her shoulder with her own. "Come on. Don't tell me you don't miss it." She spots the quick glance thrown in her direction, smirking when the taller woman lets out another deep sigh. 

"I hate that face. The last you wasn't... Umph. What have you got?" 

"Attacks happen every six months, always at night, and victims are old men." 

"Why would anyone target old people? It's boring, you can't chase them, can't outsmart them. They're basically dead already." 

"Guessing whoever is responsible is feeding on them. That's why it happens every six weeks." 

"Hm. But why feed on old people? What's special about them?" Missy shrugs. "They have less meat, if anything." 

"They run slower?" The Doctor offers, smiling at Yaz as she quotes the police officer's words, from a few weeks ago. 

"Experience." Yaz interrupts, prompted by the Doctor's attempt at involving her into the conversation. She clears her throat when the aliens' attention shift to her. "They have more. It's something my dad used to say 'Old age is just the record of one's life.' He loves quotes." 

"Experience." The Doctor repeats, gaze glazing over the crowd surrounding them. 

"They've lived longer." Missy approves, narrowing her eyes. 

"More time."

"More memories." 

"Reminiscors." 

"Fits your time line." Missy remarks. 

"Can one of you at least try to make sense?" Yaz interrupts, frowning. 

"Right, sorry." The Doctor snaps out of the moment, blinking as she struggles to contain the rush of energy theorizing with her best friend always sends coursing through her. She finds Yaz's annoyed gaze and crouches to her level. 

"Reminiscors, from the planet Reminia. They feed on people's memories. Used to be one of the most hated species in the universe, before they changed their ways. Most of them live off volunteers now, people who want to forget about painful things in their life and offer themselves up. But there's still an old fashion group of Reminiscors that refuses to give up hunting. They chase old people, sink their claws into their head, and they take everything. The victim's body remembers how to function, simple tasks like breathing or making the heart beat... But that's it. They're gone." 

"So, the unconscious men in the hospital..." Yaz starts, horrified. 

"They're not going to wake up, no." 

"Is there a chance..." The police officer pauses, gulping. The last few weeks of investigation allowed her to meet most of the victims' families, and she spotted them into the crowd earlier. "Could you be wrong?" 

Missy snickers, following the conversation as her eyes scan their surroundings. A Reminiscor really shouldn't be hard to spot, not with two Time Lords in the same room. The massive amount of memories has to be hard to resist. 

"No. We..." The Doctor shrugs, glancing at Missy. "We don't get much wrong, not together." She frowns. "I should have sorted it out myself, really."

An insisting tap on her right shoulder brings the Doctor out of her self depreciating reflection, and she straightens her back to face Missy. The older woman is staring at Hector on the opposite side of the room with the smallest smirk.

Yaz frowns as the two aliens exchange a meaningful look, following their gazes and freezing when she catches sight of her commanding officer. The old man is standing in front of his chair, cane discarded and wide eyes fastened on the blond.

"Doctor? Why is my boss looking at you like..."

"Someone is hungry, dear." Missy answers, drawling out the last word. "But why are people always after you? I've had adventures too." 

The Doctor wordlessly glares at her friend, slowly rounding the table to approach Hector. "Been a while since I've met a Reminiscor. Clever one, I'll give you that." She stops when she's standing in front of the man, arms raised as she lowers her voice. "You've been telling stories about me since we crashed. Well, here I am."

"I was hoping you would come." His words are pushed into the head of everyone present in the room, deafening in intensity.

"Erm, telepathic species. Forgot about that." The Doctor mumbles, wincing at the noise inside her head. 

"I felt the energy of your TARDIS when you landed, but I wasn't sure if it was really you. I should have known. Hurt enough innocent people, and the Doctor always shows up." He grins, ignoring the way the Time Lord's eyes harden. 

"Thirteen lives of memories, all crammed up in one head." The white haired man pauses to lick his lips in a way that sends shivers down the Doctor's back. "Enough to keep me alive for a long, long time." 

"This is worse than the Thijarians." Yaz complains, bent over on her seat and grabbing her head as Hector's speech plays through her mind.

"The Thijarians? How do you know about an ancient race of assassins?" Missy asks, frowning until the realization hits her. "Hold on, you're traveling togeth..." 

"They've changed. Thijarians are not assassins anymore." The Doctor cuts off from where she's standing, keeping a distracted ear on the interaction between Yaz and Missy. Her attention is brought back to the Reminiscor when Hector takes a step closer to her, almost breathing down her neck. "Personal space, mate. Ever heard of it?" 

"What? Did you lock the Thijarians into a vault too?" Missy smirks, resting her chin against her hand. "I thought I was special." 

"Bit busy, maybe we can do banter later." The blond Time Lord snaps with a tight smile, before being forced to the ground by Hector's claws reaching for her head. She rolls into the fall, bouncing back up once she's behind the man. "Just to be sure, what did you do to the other people you attacked?" 

"Exactly what you described. But I never kill." 

"Wrong move, mate." Missy comments from the table, as Yaz frowns in confusion. "Not her. Him." The older woman explains, pointing to the Doctor who's now standing behind Hector, holding the Sonic screwdriver against his neck. 

"Right. You don't kill. You turn innocent people into shells, leaving them alive just enough to be aware of their suffering. Maybe I should give you a taste of what it feels like." She pauses, eyes falling to the ground. "I could, you know. Just a little sonic wave, sent directly to the center of your brain, and you would be no better than the people you left for dead." 

"That's my best friend." Missy whispers with a smirk. Yaz catches the words, blinking in confusion. The deafening noise in her head is making it hard to concentrate, and she can't decide if the Doctor is bluffing or not.

***************

The temptation to get justice for Hector's victims is strong, especially knowing that she was his target in the first place. The Doctor's fingers twitch when she picks up on his elevated heart rate and the slight tremble in his shoulders. 

Fear. 

The man is terrified. The realization sends an unexpected rush of power surging through her brain, and she squeezes the cold metal of the Sonic as she battles through the magnetic feeling.

Missy's comment sinks into the part of her mind still monitoring her oldest friend's behavior, and the Doctor freezes. This thirst for revenge is _not_ her. Killing Hector wouldn't bring any of his victims back to life, and it certainly wouldn't be justice. 

The itch in her fingers fades as she switches the Sonic's settings to a lower intensity, before activating the screwdriver. The wave traveling through Hector sends the man to his knees, painful enough to make him pass out without causing any real damage. 

"Aw, no. You were doing so well." Missy sighs, when the Reminiscor falls into an unconscious heap on the ground. 

The absolute silence filling the room lingers for a long moment, before the Doctor addresses the still recovering crowd. "His fate is up to you. If you let him free, he's going to keep attacking innocent people. He needs their memories to survive." 

"What are supposed to do? Kill him?" Achilles says, carefully standing from his chair. The leftover pain echoing through his brain makes his movements slow and tentative, but he advances until he's facing the Doctor. "You have to help us. Hector is my friend." 

"I already helped." The Doctor replies, scanning the dining hall to spot the nearest exit. "The person responsible for the attacks you've been dealing with is right there. I can't do much more." 

"How did you know it was really him? Do you know that woman?" He points a trembling finger towards Missy. "Who are _you_ , really?" 

"That's the question, isn't it? I'd love to answer, but we're going to leave now." 

"I don't think I can allow that." The Calistan protests, planting his feet into the ground as he blocks the Doctor's path.

***************

Observing the conversation, Missy leans closer to Yaz and lowers her voice. "Do you have any more friends?" The human frowns in confusion, but the Time Lord clarifies before she can voice a question. "Who travels with you and the Doctor? Anyone else she'll want to get out of here with?"

"Why do you want to know?" Yaz asks, still suspicious of the stranger. 

"We..." Missy replies, indicating the Doctor with her head. "Are getting out. Now, find your friend before you get stuck behind, and she forces me to rescue you." 

Yaz hesitates another second, staring at Missy as she tries to decide if she's trustworthy enough to know about Ryan and Graham. The choice is made for her, when the youngest man's hand grasps her left shoulder, and his granddad settles on her other side. 

"Guessing we're about to run." Ryan says first, tugging the hood of his coat over his head. "I've already said goodbye to Jael."

"Sorry, Ryan." Yaz offers, glancing at Graham who's in the middle of a silent staring competition with Missy. 

"It's all right. We both knew what we were doing. I'll miss her though." He explains, frowning when he notices his granddad. "Graham?" 

The older man's gaze snaps back to Ryan, and he grabs his shoulder as they huddle together on one side of the table. Missy makes her way to them, placing herself in front of the group to watch the Doctor's attempt at persuading the Calistans to allow them to leave. 

"Can we really trust her? Some of the stuff she said..." Graham trails off, glancing between Ryan and Yaz. 

"Aw, Doctor. Your pets are trying to decide if they can trust me." Missy singsongs, with a smirk. 

"Absolutely not." The Doctor interrupts her speech, shifting her attention to the group of humans. "I'm serious. Never trust Missy." 

"Which is just one of the questions I have." Achilles interrupts. "How do you know she's not lying? Hector could be innocent."

"Didn't you listen to any of the words he pushed into your brain?" The blond snaps, throwing her hands in the air. "Put him in prison, and I'm leaving with Missy. Even if I'm wrong - which doesn't happen a lot - the attacks are going to stop." 

"But how can we be sure?" 

"You can't. You just have to trust me, sorry."

"What about Hect..."

"I don't know." The Time Lord loses the last bit of patience she had left. "Banish him. Put him in jail and offer him memories from volunteers. Ask him questions until he decides to starve to death." 

"What if there's no volunt..." 

"Enough." The Doctor interrupts, hands diving for her coat's pockets. "My turn for a question now." She finds the Sonic, twirling the screwdriver between her fingers as Achilles watches curiously. "Do you know what that is?" 

Yaz catches a glimpse of the orange glow, breaking the huddle and she gently pushing Ryan forwards. He's the clumsiest of their group, and she prefers to keep an eye on him if they're about to run. 

"I... Don't." Achilles answers, confused by the abrupt turn of the discussion. "You used it on Hector. Is it a weapon? Are you threatening me?" He frowns, tilting his head. 

"Wha... It's not a weapon, it's a screwdriver. A Sonic screwdriver. Do you know what happens when you put two Sonic devices together?" 

The Doctor continues, taking a slow step back to get closer to Missy. The other Time Lord meets her halfway, shifting her umbrella from one hand to the other as they stand together. "That's new." The blond whispers. 

"What?" 

"Was expecting you to stab me in the back." 

Missy frowns, and the Doctor turns to meet her gaze when the lull in conversation lengthens. Their quiet stare lasts until Missy raises a hand, grabs the Doctor's and sends a memory through both of their heads. 

_On my oath as a Time Lord of the Prydonian Chapter, I will guard this body for a thousand years._

"You still have a couple of centuries to go. And lucky for you, I think I'm over the stabbing phase." Missy lets her eyes fall to the ground, putting some distance between them as she fumbles with her Sonic's switch. "All right, this is getting gross. Do something, before I have t..."

The sentence is barely out of her mouth when the Doctor touches the end of her screwdriver against Missy's already glowing umbrella, sending a Sonic wave through the area and drawing a loud groan from the crowd. 

Yaz, Ryan and Graham sigh at the unexpected noise, gripping each other as they stumble towards the exit, the crowd of Calistans too stunned to stop the group. 

"Run!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth on the little flash of Dark Doctor here. Thirteen doesn't react that strongly to people/aliens killing innocent people (I'm still wondering what the ending of Kerblam! was about). 
> 
> I decided to keep because it was fun to write, and it might be discussed in the last chapter... Maybe. 
> 
> (Or, it was just out of character and I'll own it. Feel free to complain in the comments :-P).


	10. Day 90 (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the official last chapter of Grounded! 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who took the time to read, leave kudos or comment, I can't explain how much it means to me. Without your support, this story would have ended after chapter 3... Instead it turned into the work I’m the most proud of. I’ve never had so much fun writing before! 
> 
> Enough talking, I hope you all enjoy the ending :-D !

The slippery ice forces the group to stop running, after they reach a thick cluster of trees. Graham, Ryan and Yaz find a boulder to lean on, bending over and gasping for breath as they struggle to calm their thundering heartbeats. The Doctor pats the older man on the back, distractedly filling the awkward silence. "Excellent running, fam. Don't think they're following us." 

Missy seems content to watch the group's dynamics from afar, until she loses patience with the slowly recovering humans. "I don't have all day. Where's your TARDIS?" 

The Doctor lets out a long sigh, anticipating her friend's reaction to the news of their crash landing. "She's frozen. We're stuck." 

"Y..." Missy snickers, clearing her throat. "You're stranded. You." 

"Yes. Me." The Doctor replies, running a hand down her face and turning to look at the other Time Lord. 

"And you say _I_ can't drive." Missy gloats.

"Shut up." 

"No, hold on. I don't think you grasp how funny this whole situation is. You can't go anywhere without _my_ help." 

"It's not funny." The Doctor fires back, sharply. "How much you enjoy my suffering really says a lot about who you are." 

"Should I leave you alone then?" The taller woman taunts, her gleeful grin shifting to a smirk. 

"You mean you... Want to help?" The blond asks, frowning.

The question freezes Missy out of her celebration, and she shrugs. She catches a glimpse of genuine shock flashing through hazel eyes, and lets her own gaze fall to the ground. A two thousand year old friendship is bound to be complex, but sometimes she wishes they didn't spend so much of that time torturing each other. Before she can dwell on her regrets, a pair of arms slips around her waist and squeezes, drawing her into a reluctant hug. 

"What are you doing? Doctor?" Missy stares at the blond head on her shoulder in bewilderment. "I'm being attacked. Help." She glances at the humans, sighing when she sees the group frozen in different levels of confusion, before deciding to switch strategies. "Stop it." She wriggles out of the embrace, shuffling backwards. 

With a deep frown, Missy uses her foot to trace a line in the snow. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but this is where my personal space starts. Stay on the other side." 

"Oh, no." The Doctor drawls with a slow smirk as she wanders near the new border. "A very important line that should never, ever be crossed. What will I do?" 

"I'm warning y..." Before she can finish the sentence, the Doctor skips over the line and stands right in front of her, with that characteristic spark of cockiness that has always driven Missy mad. "Where is your stupid ship, before I change my mind?" 

The Doctor takes a step back, turning to the group of humans and pointing towards the peak of the mountain. "Keep climbing. Shouldn't take long."

***************

The sound of snow crunching under their feet is the only sign of their presence in the woods, and Yaz allows her thoughts to drift with the regular rhythm. Graham and Ryan are walking behind her, far enough that she can't hear their conversation. Raising her eyes, she catches a glimpse of the stranger - Missy is walking at a brisk pace much further into the forest - and sighs. If she has to guess, the mysterious woman is probably what her two friends are discussing in hushed tones.

Yaz frowns when she realizes the Doctor left her friend's side, and is nowhere to be found. 

“Good work, PC Khan.” The Time Lord offers softly, startling the younger woman out of her musings. 

"Doctor!" She yelps, stumbling in the snow. A hand grasps her elbow, drawing a tight smile out of Yaz. 

"Hello." The soft greeting turns the police officer's expression more sincere, and she shakes her head. 

"Don't do that." A half sheepish shrug is Yaz's only answer, and she continues. "What's good work?" 

"Well, I missed the part of the trial where they asked you questions, but I caught the end. You did great to figure out Missy didn't attack those men." 

"Thanks." Yaz replies distractedly, and her attention is brought back to the stranger leading the group's progression. "Who's she, exactly?" 

"Missy. The Mistress. Childhood best friend." 

Yaz blinks, caught off-guard by the answer. Both parts of the sentence are equally surprising, questions flooding her mind as she tries to process it. "You said your people died in a war."

"Yes. We're the last ones, her and me." The Doctor says, trying to stay close to the truth. She can only hope Missy won't decide to bring up Gallifrey's status in front of her friends. 

"And y... Wait, you're the friend she was looking for!" 

"Erm, probably." The Time Lord purses her lips, hands diving for her trousers' pockets. Yaz nods, eyes focused on her boots while her brain is struggling to catch up with the new information. 

"How... Can you be friends?" The dark haired woman starts, tentatively. "I get that you're the only survivors of your species, but she's... She said killing people is one of her finest talent." Yaz remembers, with a deep frown. 

"She wasn't always like that. Missy... My people did something to her, and she's been trying to be better, but..." The Doctor trails off again, with a heavy sigh. "It's hard." 

"What did they do?" The police officer prompts, surprised by the Doctor's quick forgiveness of multiple murders. It seems odd, after seeing the deep respect the blond has for all living creatures. 

"That's not my story to tell."

"But you've never been... Like her, right? You didn't go around killing people before you met us?" Yaz's tone is caught somewhere between teasing and genuine concern. 

"Of course not." The Doctor answers easily, ignoring the remnants of guilt stirring up in her stomach. 

"I was worried." The younger woman says, but her tone is much lighter and she bumps their shoulders together, shifting closer. "You were pretty convincing when you threatened Hector." She adds playfully, her voice softening. 

"I tried." The blond gulps, forcing a tight smile with her response. Yaz reaches for her hand and tangle their fingers, allowing the Doctor to focus on the warmth of the contact. The guilt fades away - along with the memory of the high brought by holding Hector's life between her fingers - and she lets the peaceful silence of the forest linger. 

Missy suddenly appears in the middle of the path, raising an eyebrow when she notices their clasped hands. 

"Do you want something?" The Doctor asks, with a warning glare. 

"Your key. I'm not going to wait outside your stupid box forever, it's cold." 

The blond rolls her eyes, using her free hand to throw the key at Missy. She catches the object, sauntering away with a smirk. 

"Are you sure you should be giving her your key?" Yaz wonders, still suspicious of the odd woman. 

"The TARDIS would let her in anyway. We used to travel together, she did maintenance for me. Eyebrows hated maintenance. Can't remember why." The Doctor shrugs. "I probably got bored." 

"You traveled together." Yaz repeats, swallowing when she realizes the Doctor might be planning on spending more time with her childhood friend. Being the only two survivors of a species must bound people together in a way she can't exactly relate to. "Will you travel with her now?" 

"What?" 

The genuine confusion is a small relief to Yaz, but the police officer pushes away the feeling. If the Doctor wants to go off with one of her own people, she shouldn't feel obligated to stay with humans. "It would make sense, if it's only the two of you. And you seem close." A note of bitterness slips into her voice, when Yaz remembers the easy familiarity coloring the interactions between the two aliens. "I'd understand, if y..." 

"Of course not." The Doctor cuts off, slightly horrified at the thought. Traveling with Missy would be even worse than traveling alone, with the other Time Lord fueling her inner battle with the darker part of herself. She glances at Yaz, catching a glimpse of sadness flashing through her brown eyes as a thought hits her. "Unless it's what you want. Are you trying to tell me you want to... Stop? Spend time with your famil..." 

"No!" Yaz interrupts, frantically shaking her head. "I want to stay with you." 

"Oh." The Doctor hums, allowing herself a second of relief as the dark haired woman's answer sinks in. "Good." 

"Is it?" 

The Doctor turns to face her, and their gazes lock under the suns' dimming light. Letting go of Yaz's hand, she slugs an arm over her shoulders and draws the human against her side, before brushing her lips against her temple. "It's brilliant."

***************

"You've redecorated." Missy remarks, when the Doctor enters the control room. "I don't like it." She pauses, approaching the console. "Power her up."

"Wh... You don't get to give orders." The blond frowns, giving a sharp look to the other woman as Yaz, Ryan and Graham go through the door. 

"Yes, I do." 

"It's my ship."

"It's my Artron energy." 

"My... Argh, all right." The Doctor throws her hands in the air, before grasping the Sonic and pressing the screwdriver against the central column. The crystal brightens up in a clear white color, blinding the occupants of the room before going back to its regular shade of mint green. A slow hum fills the space, growing stronger for a second before slipping back into the background. 

"The new systems are awful, how can you even drive?" Missy asks, taking in the console. "Did you make her cross right before regenerating?" 

"I.. Maybe. It's not important." The Doctor sighs. "Are you going to complain the whole time?"

"Isn't that what I always do? And I've reactivated your heat shield, you're welcome." Missy replies, not waiting for an answer as she approaches the main lever. "She has enough energy left to reach my ship." 

Offering no further warning, she brings down the controller and sends the TARDIS into the Vortex. The Doctor looks unfazed, hopping to reach a switch on the further side as Graham grips the wall, extending a hand to Yaz who hangs onto his limb. The precaution is useless, since no turbulence trouble the short flight. The only sign they're even moving is a light tremor traveling through the floor, which is still enough to send Ryan flying across the room with a grunt, before the ship stabilizes. 

"Can we have a warning next time?" Ryan asks from his landing spot, on the bottom step. 

"That was smooth. Your driving is never that smooth." Graham chimes in from the background as he releases his grip on the wall. 

"It could be. Where's the fun in that?" The Doctor says, rolling her eyes and ignoring Missy's smirk.

"All those times you tell us to hang on, we could be having a nice relaxing flight? Is that what you're saying?" The older man frowns. 

"Oi! I go fast, which means we get bumpy flights. Don't like it, you can always find another Ti... Pilot." 

"Ti, pilot?" Missy repeats, with a slow grin. "What was that?" 

"Nothing." The Doctor swallows, turning her back to Missy when she feels the woman's insistent eyes on her back. "Are we doing this, or not?" 

"Interesting. I know that face." 

The Doctor sighs, letting her shoulders drop. Missy always had a gift to pinpoint the best way to drive every one of her regeneration mad, and this face doesn't seem immune. 

"They have no idea who you are, do they?" The words are surprisingly whispered against her ear, and the Doctor tilts her head to the side with a curious frown. 

Now, _that's_ new.

Instead of pointing out her friend's uncharacteristic display of sensitivity, she shakes her head quietly. There's no need to risk provoking the other woman into spilling every detail of their shared past. 

"Oh, Doctor. I like it. It can be our little secret." Missy gives an exaggerated wink, before sauntering down the stairs. "Don't go anywhere." She singsongs, leaving the room to prepare her ship for an energy transfer. 

The Doctor watches her go, pensive. She never could understand what drives Missy, but she's not going to complain if she gets an unexpected reprise from discussing her past with Ryan, Graham and especially with Yaz.

The Time Lord lets out the breath she was holding, as she wanders around the console and fiddles with some buttons. The faster this energy transfer is over, the faster she can get away from Missy and all the memories her presence is stirring up.

***************

In the end, almost an hour passes until the lighting in the control room comes back to its original shade of warm orange.

Yaz, Graham and Ryan are sitting on the bottom step, watching the aliens travel back and forth between the two ships as they adjust the controls and draw odd noises from the TARDIS. When the Doctor finally stops moving, she's standing in front of the main lever with her hands on her hips, eyes glued to the console. 

"So, she's ready to fly?" Graham breaks the charged silence, startling the blond out of whatever deep thoughts were running through her mind. 

"No, she's not." The reply comes from the ship's entrance, Missy suddenly filling the doorway. "Her energy level is back to normal, but the psychic link hasn't been reactivated. How long are you going to stare at the telepathic interface?" 

The Doctor sighs, her attention focused on the empty space in her brain that's normally buzzing with her link to the TARDIS. 

She's hesitant to break the mental barrier she built around it - the only way she could function without her head feeling so painfully empty - even if she's yearning for the steady presence in her mind. Relying on the ship to travel is second nature, but she never realized how dependent she became on the TARDIS' for companionship. 

Missy's taunting is not helping her struggle, and the Doctor jumps when the taller woman appears at her side to grab her wrist. 

"Missy, no. What are you doi..." She trails off when the other Time Lord forcefully brings her hand to the telepathic interface, gasping when her skin grazes the ship's metal. 

The light contact creates a spark that travels from her fingertips right through her mind, exploding with a sense of deep familiarity. 

Home. 

The Doctor bends over the console, resting her forehead against the control panel for a second. A tension she wasn't aware of carrying fades from her shoulders, leaving her gasping for breath in profound relief. 

_Hello, Thief._

The TARDIS' words ring inside her head, vibrant and full of a joyful energy that draws a happy grin from the Doctor.

"Ooh, hello Sexy." She whispers, gently patting one of the lever before straightening her back. "I've missed you." 

There's no verbal answer in the Doctor's head - nothing unexpected, the TARDIS is not keen on using words - but the custard cream pedal activates itself. 

"Sexy? You call your ship Sexy." Missy repeats, unimpressed. 

"She likes it." The blond offers, munching on the offered biscuit. "And don't pretend you don't have some sort of completely inappropriate nickname for yours." 

The taller woman rolls her eyes, moving on from the pointless conversation. Winning an argument with the Doctor about her TARDIS is impossible. "Where are you going now?" 

"Back to Earth. I have to drop them home." The blond tilts her head, grinning at the smiling humans behind her. 

"Can I come?" 

"Y... What?" The Doctor asks, confused by Missy's sudden desire to visit what she previously deemed "The most bland planet of the universe". 

"Can I come with you?" She repeats, slower. 

The Doctor frowns, before facing Missy properly with a sharp glare. "Why do you want to go to Earth?"

"Oh, relax. I won't do anything to your precious little planet. I just..." She trails off with a long sigh. "I go when I miss you. I just thought we could... Forget it." 

She brushes off and turns to leave, finding her wrist caught by slim fingers. Glancing back, she scowls her face into a neutral expression before meeting searching hazel eyes. The Doctor's decision shouldn't even matter to her. She survived just fine without her oldest friend for centuries, why would she need t...

"All right. Let's talk." The answer takes Missy by surprise, and she swallows down the unexpected emotions rushing through her head. 

"I'll follow you." She climbs down the stairs, passing through the door before her head pops back into the ship. "At a reasonable speed." 

"Slow. You've always been slow." The Doctor fires back with the smallest grin, drawing a silent eye roll out of Missy before she disappears from view again.

***************

Their departure is delayed by a few hours when the Doctor notices traces of ice sticking to the console. With a deep sigh, she crawls down and reaches for the Sonic screwdriver, murmuring a distracted apology to her companions who decide to wander back into the familiar hallways.

The blond loses track of time as she fiddles with the controls until she's satisfied with her work. The shiny metal is dry and almost warm to the touch, ready to take them through the Vortex again. Hands on her hips, the Doctor lets her eyes travel across the control room. She catches sight of the beam of light filtering through the ship's doors left ajar and frowns. 

Missy has been gone for hours - they agreed on a meeting point when her friend lost patience with the slow defrosting work - and her companions are still entertaining themselves somewhere on board the ship. The Doctor approaches the entrance, peeking her head through the doors. 

She finds Yaz standing a few steps away from the TARDIS, head thrown back as she watches stars twinkle between clouds. Lost snowflakes swirl in the wind, catching the moonlight and sparkling like tiny crystals against the dark night sky. The landscape is beautiful, but it's the figure wrapped under a heavy winter coat that draws the Doctor in, as she feels her feet move before her mind catches up with the movement. 

The Time Lord slows her approach when she notices Yaz's slumped shoulders and screwed shut eyes. 

“We’re going home.” The Doctor’s voice startles the younger woman out of her quiet contemplation. “You should be happy.”

Before the blond can think of a proper question, she finds herself dragged around the blue box. Her back hits the wooden side, Yaz’s hands clinging to the lapels of her coat with a strength that borders on desperation when she brings their lips together. 

The kiss has an odd salty taste, and when the Doctor shuffles to the side, she grips Yaz's hips to get a direct look at the younger woman. The tears pooling in her eyes tug at the alien’s hearts.

“Yaz?” 

“I’m scared.” The dark haired woman admits in a whisper. 

“You’re scared of... Going home?” The Doctor repeats tentatively, her face scrunched. 

The question draws a wet chuckle out of Yaz. “Of losing you, idiot.” Voicing her fear makes the possibility sounds real, and the younger woman gulps. Using her grip on the Doctor’s shoulders, she leans up for another - more gentle - kiss. “Of losing this.” 

“I don’t understand.” The Time Lord replies as they separate. “I swear we just had that talk. And you said you wanted to stay with m...”

“Yes. I want to keep traveling with you.” Yaz clears her throat. “But I don’t want to go back to being just mates.” 

The Doctor lets out a deep sigh. “This is why I don’t like talking about feelings. You lot don’t understand how brilliant friendship is.” 

“I do. You’re my best friend.” Yaz shrugs. “You’ve been my best friend for almost a year now, but I wasn’t yours.”

“That’s not tr...” The Doctor’s objection is cut short by Yaz’s raised eyebrow.

“Do you remember how you were before we crashed here? You never talked about your past, or just hung out with us. You always tried to send us away whenever a situation got too dangerous. You wouldn’t even hug me.”

The blond stays quiet, and Yaz relents with a sigh. “I’m sure you had your reasons. But I _feel_ like your best friend now, and I’m terrified it’s going to stop when we leave.” She pauses, distractedly playing with the end of the Doctor’s hair with the fingers still resting on her coat. “And well, the rest is nice too... Kissing and stuff.” 

“Is it?” The Time Lord deadpans, noticing the furious blush coloring Yaz’s cheeks. 

“Shut up, I’m tr...” The younger woman trails off when the Doctor’s arms shift to guide her into a proper hug. "Oh."

Resting the side of her head against the alien’s shoulder, Yaz takes a deep breath. She feels herself smiling when she picks up on the Doctor’s scent - a mix of cold snow, sugary biscuits and that impossible to describe smell she associates with the TARDIS - before she closes her eyes to enjoy the peaceful moment. 

“Kidding. It’s very nice.” The last words are purred against Yaz’s ear, and the Doctor grins when she hears the catch in her breath. She allows a few seconds to pass, waiting until Yaz’s heartbeat returns to its regular slow pace. “Don’t be scared.”

“Why not?” The younger woman asks, drawing courage from the warmth surrounding her. “How do I know you won’t go back to your old ways?”

_Because I can’t,_ the Doctor acknowledges to herself. Yaz’s constant presence at her side is addicting, enough that she’s dreading the few days they will irremediably spend apart, after she drops her companions back in Sheffield. Going back to their superficial friendship is impossible, no matter how much simpler the prospect seems. 

“I won’t, Yaz. I promise. I was just...” _Trying to protect myself._ “Letting you do a bit of team building. Ryan and Graham needed time alone, and you needed to get to know them.”

Yaz frowns. The explanation makes sense, rationally. It would also require a level of social awareness she isn’t quite sure the Doctor is capable of. There’s no way to press the question without being rude, and while she knows the alien is not as oblivious as she looks, Yaz decides to accept the reasoning. 

“Just don’t forget you’re part of the team.” The dark haired woman pauses, with a gentle smile. "My favorite part." 

“Yes, boss.” The Doctor teases, and Yaz responds with a playful eye roll. She indulges in the gentle hug for a few more seconds, running her hands up and down the blond's back, and smiling at the satisfied hum she receives. 

“Come on then. Take me home, so I can tell my mum I ran off with you for three months.” She takes a step back and heads towards the ship's entrance. 

The words freeze the Doctor, her eyes widening. “Please, don’t d... Wait, three months? Show a little trust in my driving skills, I can get us back much sooner than that.” 

“Good. Then I can just tell her we’re seeing each other.” Yaz replies, with the ghost of a smirk as she slips through the TARDIS’ doors, leaving a dumbfounded alien standing in the threshold. 

“We are?” The Doctor whispers to herself with a slow grin. 

This is going to be fun. 

Or it was, until the first part of the sentence sinks in, and her smile fades. 

“Wait, Yaz. Do you have to tell her? I don’t do great with mothers, maybe you sh...”

The rest of her words are lost, muffled under the sound of the TARDIS' doors clicking shut and Yaz's amused laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have an idea for a sequel, but I'm trying to keep this universe soft/low drama, and there's another story that won't leave me alone at the moment (Which would be a lot more angsty). 
> 
> I keep going back and forth between the two, so we'll see what comes out first :-D ! 
> 
> I'm taking a little break before I start posting though, to both rest and do some research for my next work, whatever it ends up being :-)


End file.
